What Goes Around
by danagabrielle
Summary: If rules are meant to be broken, then lines are meant to be crossed, right? For everyone who loved Away Isn't Far Enough. Same author, same desire to stay in character. Read and review, please! WARNING:LAST CHAPT HAS M RATED STUF
1. Never Say Never

**A.N. Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed _Away Isn't Far Enough_. This story is just for you. Hope you like it as much!!**

Chapter 1  
**NEVER SAY NEVER**

"So, are you coming or not?" Booth asked, with a hint of impatience.

"I don't know," Brennan said, putting a last folder in her bag before zipping it shut. She looked at all of her coworkers gathered in front of her office, getting ready to leave. _This is a waste of time._ "I still have at least three hours of paperwork to finish up. And you said you would help," she reminded him.

"And I will. Later. Cam invited all of us, and I think you should go too."

"She invited me because she's polite. She doesn't really want me there."

"Since when do you read minds?" Booth laughed out. "And why wouldn't she want you there?"

"She doesn't like me very much in social settings," Brennan stated.

"That's not true. She likes you just fine, settings or not. Now, come on," he said, taking her bag from her hands. "Paperwork can wait. It can always wait."

"You know," she explained, passing in front of him. "According to clinical literature, rebelliousness, hostility and disagreeableness are thought to be major motivations for procrastination."

She felt his hand on her back. The usual illogical feeling of comfort crept inside of her, along with a not-so-new twitching burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her mind ignored it, as it always did. But the inaudible breath she drew was sharp and shaky. He touched her a lot these days. Or maybe she just noticed it more.

"She's coming!" Booth announced to everyone. They all clapped and cheered. Brennan's cheeks flushed a little and she couldn't hold back a smile.

"I told you Booth would convince her," she heard Angela tell Hodgins.

***

This apartment looked nothing like what she had expected. It was charming, inviting and warm. She would never have guessed Cam lived here.

"And here is Michelle's room. I know, it's a mess. She's away on a school trip for the weekend, and I'm trying really hard not to clean it up. Invasion of privacy is something she takes seriously," Cam explained.

Brennan listened to Angela talking about her bedroom as a kid, and she heard laughs coming from the kitchen. Booth and Hodgins were making dinner. Cam had dared them to, and Booth never could refuse a challenge, although spaghetti hardly qualified as a challenge. While the two women were talking about wallpaper, she discreetly went back to the hallway, towards the cooks.

"This is not one of your little experiments, buddy!" she heard Booth say. "If you blow up Cam's kitchen, she'll kill you and I'll have to clean up the mess by myself."

"Oh, I'm sure Dr. Brennan would help you," Hodgins muttered between smiles.

"You need my help?" Brennan asked, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.

Booth jumped, startled, and dropped the wooden spoon he was holding in the pot, splashing red sauce all over his white shirt.

"Aw, Bones, come on!"

Brennan bit her lips together, torn between the urge to laugh and the need to apologize. Hodgins snorted, clearly amused.

"See what I mean?" he said.

"This was a new shirt!" Booth whined.

Brennan walked up to him to assess the damage.

"A little hydrogen peroxide, and it will be like nothing happened," she said.

"You know, man, if you didn't dress up in such expensive clothing all the time, you wouldn't mind getting dirty," Hodgins said.

"I only get dirty when Bones is around," Booth mumbled.

Hodgins burst out in laughter. "Oh, I know."

Booth shut his eyes, embarrassed. "It's not what I meant."

"Whatever." Hodgins handed Brennan a wet cloth. "I'll ask Cam if she has any H2O2," he continued, leaving them alone.

Booth sighed, clearly bothered. Brennan did not dare to look at him.

"I'm sorry," she almost whispered as she worked on the biggest stain, up on his chest.

"It's fine," Booth let out, teeth clenched. She was way too close to him. She smelled way too good. That shampoo of hers was going to kill him. With a frustrated sigh, he went to grab the cloth, but her hands drifted down. And down. He felt her fingers near his belt buckle and implored God not to let his body react. Too late.

"What are you doing?" Booth's voice cracked.

"I'm trying to get the sauce off your shirt, what do you think I'm doing?"

Booth grabbed her wrists. Another move from her and he was a goner.

"I can do it," he said.

"But it's my fault, I should..."

"You've done enough," he interrupted her. He hadn't meant to sound so blunt.

Brennan took a step back, a little hurt. "I'm sorry, Booth. I'll buy you a new one." Boy, that man could be such a baby sometimes. "No need to be so angry with me."

Angry? He wasn't angry. He was so turned on, he could barely breathe!

"I'm not angry."

"Well, you look angry," she insisted.

"I'm not. But now I'm annoyed," he corrected her, locking eyes with her for a second before she looked down.

"Looks like Sweets didn't help me much in recognizing facial expressions."

Now, he felt bad. Lifting her chin up, he waited for her to finally look at him.

"It's just a shirt. I'll survive," he smiled.

He held out his hand, palm up, waiting. She looked down at it. _Peace offering,_ she thought. A smile crept on the corner of her lips and she slowly put her palm on his. Her heart skipped yet another beat. She loved his hands. He gently brushed his thumb on the top of her hand and gave it a little squeeze. When she looked up at him, he was smiling broadly, milliseconds away from laughing.

"What?" she asked, unable not to smile back. She tilted her head and dug through his eyes for an answer.

He brought up their joined hands. "I just wanted the cloth," he said, explaining his 'peace offering'.

"Oh." She quickly drew her hand back, now self-conscious. Or mortified. _And you're supposed to be a genius,_ she told herself. "Here," she tried to laugh.

Booth took it without breaking eye contact. _That's the 9th today,_ he thought to himself. As if counting their moments of silent tension made it any easier not to kiss her. He wondered again what her lips tasted like today.

"May I have a taste?" Brennan asked.

Booth blinked. _What?_

"Uh?" He cleared his throat.

"The sauce. May I taste it?" she specified, pointing the pot.

"Uhm, yeah. Sure." _Get your head back in reality, Booth._ "Go ahead."

"I don't have any hydrogen peroxide, but I have this magic stuff here that does wonders with stains," Cam said, as she entered the kitchen followed by Angela who walked up to the stove, next to Brennan. She tasted the sauce, too.

"It's not magic," Brennan said. "The chemical reaction..."

"We know," Cam, Hodgins and Booth cut her off.

Brennan looked down at her feet. She knew they knew. She had to stop correcting everyone. She knew it was annoying for them. She was trying really hard, but she rarely could stop herself.

"Here," Cam said. "Give me your shirt, I'll take care of it."

"What? And spend the rest of the evening half naked?" Booth snorted.

"That's not a half bad idea," Angela joked.

"Easy, Angie," Hodgins warned her, smiling.

Cam explained. "I still have one of your shirts in my closet. You forgot it here last time."

Brennan leaned harder against the counter, trying not to react. But she instantly looked at Booth, then her eyes averted to Cam. And back to Booth. They couldn't have, right? Booth had made it clear. He had even drawn a freaking line which, she assumed, did not only apply to her. She knew she had no right to react like this. Nor to react at all.

Booth looked perplexed. Maybe he didn't want their secret out. Brennan couldn't stop trying to analyze his face. He should have told her he had resumed a sexual relationship with Cam.

"You still have it?" he asked, feeling Bones' eyes on him. "After two years?"

Brennan let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She watched Booth follow Cam to get the forgotten shirt.

"I heard that," Angela whispered.

Brennan looked around.

"You heard what? Why are you whispering?"

The doorbell rang. "That'd be Sweets," Hodgins said.

Angela motioned her head for Hodgins to go open the door.

"You're so bossy when you haven't had sex in a while," Hodgins joked before walking away. "I like it!" he yelled from the front door.

Brennan was still waiting for her friend to answer her question. She repeated, "What did you hear?"

Angela smiled at her and shook her head in disbelief. "You were relieved when Booth made it clear he hadn't rekindled things with Cam."

"What? Why would I be relieved? It doesn't have anything to do with me. It's none of my business."

"Oh, I never said it was your business. I'm simply stating a fact. You usually accept the facts, sweetie."

Brennan frowned, but before she could argue, Angela continued.

"What's even more interesting is that he felt the need to make things clear for you..."

What was _in_ that sauce? Hallucinogens?

"Hey, guys!" Sweets' happy voice filled the apartment. "Thank you for inviting me."

"What have you got there, Dr. Sweets?" Angela asked, pointing to the bag the psychologist was holding.

"Oh ! Let me." Hodgins chimed in before Sweets could answer. "He brought _games_..." Even Brennan got the hint of amusement in his voice.

"Are we gonna play _Pin the Tail on the Donkey_?" Booth asked, joining them in the dining room. He was still buttoning up his clean shirt. Brennan did not look at the skin of his chest. Ok, maybe she glimpsed. A little. But Angela didn't notice, so it didn't count.

"I brought beer, too," Sweets said before looking at Booth. "And before you ask, no, I did not get carded."

Cam took Sweets' jacket to put it away, Angela took his bag of games, Hodgins finished setting the table and Booth took the plates out of the cupboard. Brennan suddenly felt useless. She looked around, trying to shake out that sensation she often experienced growing up. She felt out of place.

Slowly, she backed away and leaned on the wall at the kitchen entrance. She could observe everyone from here. And she started to relax. She smiled as her best friend's clear laugh filled the air. Angela was teaching Hodgins how to fold the napkins and he was evidently failing.

She turned to the living room where Cam was showing Sweets a photo album... She bit her lips as the image of Zack popped into her mind. She missed him still. A lot. Her eyes drifted to the floor and she sighed. What a crappy week. Scratch that. What a crappy month. On more than one occasion, she had been completely useless in the lab. First with the foaming bones, which she could not examine, then because Cam had refused to give up on her idea to rehydrate the dried flesh of that pregnant teenager... And the interns helping them were doing well even when she was not around. Maybe that's why she had tried to be efficient in the interrogation room... without any success. She had to rely more and more on others and she wasn't sure she was comfortable with that.

"Why are you so quiet?"

Startled, she spun her head up to see Booth standing right there, leaning against the wall beside her, his arm above her head.

She shrugged and shifted on her feet.

"Is dinner ready?" she asked.

_She's getting good at changing the subject. _

"In a minute. You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Of course."

But Booth wasn't buying it.

"I'm just really tired," she explained. He brought his face closer to hers, squinting his eyes. She tried not to look at his lips. "You look tired, too."

"Jeez, thanks!" he said, pretending to be offended.

"You're welcome," she smiled. He grinned back, sweeping his eyes across her face. He resisted the urge to put a strand of her hair behind her ear, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey, you two, if you're _that_ hungry, you should join us at the table. Where there's actual_ food_!" Hodgins exclaimed. Brennan and Booth turn towards him at the same time, but whereas Booth abruptly pulled away and almost ran to take a seat, Brennan took her time.

"How does one know how hungry a person is?" she asked.

"He's talking about the kind of hungry that makes mama's radar go off these days," Angela tried to explain.

Brennan frowned.

"I don't know what that means..." She turned to Booth.

He choked on his breath a little, looking around, wide eyed.

"Why are you looking at me? I didn't say anything!" he defended himself.

"Well, you're usually the one who explains to me their cryptic comments."

"Yeah, well, maybe later," he said, taking a big sip of wine, and winced a little.

"I bet you will," Hodgins murmured. Angela nudged him with her elbow.

Brennan seemed lost, looking at them one by one.

Cam raised her glass of red wine. "To another case closed by our wonderful team."

They all clinked their glasses together.

"To us," Booth said, as his glass touched Brennan's. Her soft eyes met his gaze, smiling through the blue, as always, and he felt his chest tighten. "To us all," he added.

"Hear, hear!"

***

Brennan insisted on cleaning up the kitchen with Cam. It gave her something to do. Everyone else was chit chatting in the living room, laughing. And she didn't have that many jokes or funny stories to tell. Putting the last plate in the cupboard, she realized she was a little disappointed. Oh, she loved every one of her coworkers, which she considered her friends now. But usually, after they closed a case, Booth would take her out, alone. She was comfortable when she was alone with him. She didn't feel the need to come up with funny stories. As a matter of fact, sometimes, she'd just have to give him a look and he would laugh.

"Thank you for helping me," Cam said. She handed her another glass of wine.

"No problem," Brennan replied.

They entered the living room. Angela, Sweets and Hodgins were sitting on the same sofa, while Booth was alone on the other one. When he saw them arrive, he smiled and patted the spot next to him. Brennan looked at Cam, wondering if she should let her sit next to Booth and grab a chair from the kitchen instead. It was her apartment, after all. But Cam grabbed a cushion and sat on the floor. Weirdly satisfied, Brennan put her glass on the coffee table and sat next to Booth, who rested his arm behind her, on the edge of the couch.

"Cam, you can't stay on the floor!" Booth said.

Instantly, the anthropologist turned to him. Guilt washed over her.

"You're right, I should go sit on the floor," she said, getting ready to get up.

But Booth put his hand on her shoulder so she'd stay put.

"No one sits on the floor. Come on, scoot over. Cam, sit over here."

It's not that she absolutely wanted to be next to Booth, or that she didn't want Cam to be next to him, but... She held back a sigh and scooted over to the other side of the couch, creating a place for Cam between them.

Cam almost laughed. _As if I would sit between those two. They will probably spend the evening trying to talk to each other..._

_Where is she going?_ Booth wondered. Without thinking, he quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She didn't resist, but surprised, she gasped a little. And breathed him in. He probably wanted Cam to have better access to the coffee table next to the couch. That's why he had pulled her so close to him. Their thighs were glued together. She had never been more aware of her right thigh in her entire life. Being that comfortable made her uncomfortable.

"Remember that drinking game, 'Never Have I Ever?" Hodgins said.

"Yeah!" Angela smiled.

Booth and Cam laughed.

"Oh, my God, yes. We used to play every weekend in college," Cam said.

"What is it?" Brennan asked.

"You have to say something starting with 'Never have I ever...' and those who have drink," Booth explained.

"I'm confused."

Sweets tried to explain better.

"For example, you say 'Never have I ever had a dog'..."

Hodgins interrupted him. "Well, that's usually not in that line of questioning."

"Yeah, it's usually slightly more... personal," Angela continued.

"Ok, for example, 'Never have I ever kissed a dog', and those who have kissed a dog have to take a sip of their drink."

"Who would kiss a dog?" Brennan asked.

"The point is to get others to reveal their secrets," Angela concluded. "We should try. You'll understand once we start."

"Yeah, I'm not sure I wanna play," Booth winced.

"Too many secrets, agent Booth?" Sweets prodded him.

Brennan was curious now. "You afraid, Booth?"

"Fine!" Booth took his beer. "I'll start. Never have I ever... Uhm... Yeah. No. Somebody else should start. I have no idea what to say."

"I'll do it," Brennan said. "Never have I ever gotten straight A's in _Personal Identification and Analytic Methods _in college."

"That's not a fun question, Bones! No one's gonna drink to that."

"Oh, but I will..."

She looked at all their blank faces, smiled with pride and took a big sip of wine.

Angela laughed. "At least she got the point."

"You really should drink beer, Bones. There's nothing worse than a wine hangover."

Brennan shook her head. "I'm not planning on being hung over."

"Yeah, a hangover is usually not something you plan..." Cam replied.

"My turn," Angela said. "I'll go with a classic, so that everyone can drink. Never have I ever been drunk."

As expected, everyone took a sip. Except Sweets. Hodgins looked at the psychologist, who was staring at his feet.

"Didn't you say that when the statement doesn't apply to you, you have to drink?" Brennan verified.

"Yes..."

They all looked at each other wide eyed. Booth tried to wrap his brain around the confession.

"You have never, ever been drunk in your whole entire... yet so short existence?"

Sweets sat up straighter, gathering some fake pride. "Nope."

"Wow," Angela let out. "Well, let's get to it, then."

Sweets turned to her. "What?"

"Let's get you drunk," Hodgins continued. He raised his glass to his lips. "Never have I ever had a crush on Angela," he said slowly, making sure Sweets understood he was talking to him. He waited for the shrink to raise his glass too, and they both took a sip. Just before putting his glass down, Sweets whispered in a threatening tone, "You just wait..."

Brennan saw a change on Sweets face. She wasn't too sure of the significance, but if she had been one for guessing, she would have said the young doctor had somewhat of a thirst for vengeance and that he was about to get even.

"Never have I ever..." he started, painfully slowly, enjoying every shadow of emotion passing on Hodgins' features, "... had a tattoo."

Oh, well. She had been wrong before. Angela took a sip, even though a non-permanent inking hardly qualified as a tattoo. Brennan went to turn to Booth, knowing he was going to drink too, when she realized Sweets was grinning from ear to ear. He probably had lied saying he had never been drunk. That young man was clearly not well.

She heard Hodgins mutter, "I'm gonna kill you." And to everyone's surprise, he drank. And he drank again when he caught Angela's stare. The initial shock passed, and everyone started to talk at the same time, but Hodgins had gulped down all of his beer. He stood up. "Who wants more beer?"

"Sit down," Cam said. You could hear she wanted to laugh, but Hodgins took it as an order and sat back down.

"You don't even have a tattoo..." Booth started before he realized how it sounded. "Not that I've seen you... Or anything."

"Oh, but I have. I've seen him. Every inch of him. He doesn't have a..."

Angela stopped abruptly. Hodgins had taken his shirt off, exposing the drawing on his shoulder.

"That's..."

"Is that...?"

"Angela?"

"Wow!" Angela first exclaimed. "I mean... It's a little creepy, but it's beautiful!" she said, grabbing his arm. "Why did you do this?"

"It's not me!" he cried out.

"Been abducted by aliens again?" Booth teased him.

"No. By Angela's dad."

Angela winced. "I told you to leave town."

"Sure. Rub it in."

"How did you know about his tattoo, Dr Sweets?" Cam asked.

"He told me."

"In confidence!" he yelped.

They started to argue. Surprised and unsure of how she was supposed to react or what she was supposed to say, if anything, Brennan turned to Booth. He was watching the scene play out in front of him as if he were watching a TV show, trying not to laugh.

Angela tried to calm Hodgins down.

"It's no big deal. Everyone knows. So what?"

"No big deal?" he repeated. "How would you feel if I told everyone one of your secrets?"

"Like I would care. I don't have any secrets," Angela smiled slyly.

Hodgins snorted. "Let's see..." He took Angela's glass and handed it to her.

"Never have I ever kissed Booth on the lips," he dropped.

Brennan's heart sank deep into her stomach. Her brain had never processed information so fast. She couldn't even catch up with it. Before she realized it, her hand went up. As she felt the cold glass on her lips, her mind remembered she had kissed Booth. But as quick flashes of them under the mistletoe started taking over her, she frowned. "_HOLD ON!" _she wanted to yell. She felt the urge to pause everything and everyone around her as she understood that Angela was drinking, too. She tried her hardest not to react. Not to see everyone's eyes on her. Why were they all looking at her? Why weren't they all over Angela? Angela had kissed Booth? When? Why hadn't Booth ever told her? She caught a glimpse of Sweets trying to hide his laugh. Hodgins, who should have known it was impossible to make Angela uncomfortable, was stunned by the secrets he had just unleashed. Cam was agape. Booth was... she couldn't verify. She didn't want to look at him. She tried to put some distance between him and her, but with Cam on the other side, she was stuck. Stuck on him. _Stop fidgeting. Say something_. But Angela and she spoke at the same time.

"You kissed Booth?!" They both said. Brennan didn't intend for her voice to sound so screechy.

Booth cringed. _Crap._

The confusion was getting to everyone. Sweets' professional instincts took over. "Ok, wait. Everyone calm down." He hid his smirk the best he could. "One at a time." Except for Brennan who was biting her lip, and for Booth, who had his head between his hands, they all looked as if they wanted to talk. Sweets said, "Me first. Agent Booth, do you realize you kissed all of your female coworkers?"

"Not all of them!" he said, defensively.

"Oh, and who are you forgetting, mister?" Cam said.

"No one! Can we talk about something else, please?" he grumpily barked.

"I agree." Brennan didn't want to know. She didn't want to think anymore. She took her glass, his empty beer bottle, and got up. Booth got his legs out of the way so she could escape. As she squeezed passed him, Angela got up, too. "Let me help you," she said. And before Brennan could respond, Angela was already in the kitchen.

She could hear the laughter all aimed at Booth. "Way to go, Booth!" "Hope you never kissed Daisy..." "Or agent Perotta." Yeah, Brennan didn't want to know.

Brennan knew she couldn't avoid going into the kitchen. She entered, dreading every second of it. She walked straight to the counter and put her glass on it. Without even glancing at her friend, she opened the fridge and took out a beer. She heard Angela's voice. "So, when exactly did you forget to tell me you and Booth kissed?"

Brennan didn't mean to sound snappy when she let out, "I don't know. Was it before or after you forgot to tell me you kissed him, too?" Regretting every syllable, she opened the bottle and drank from it. Angela winced. _You really shouldn't mix beer and wine, Bren._

"Who cares about me?!" Angela cried out. "_You_ kissed Booth?! I can't believe you didn't tell me! Oh, my God! Wait!" Angela jumped up and pushed herself up to sit on the counter. "When did you... or was it him?"

_Let me breathe. _Brennan couldn't find the words to start. She had the same questions for her friend.

"We should get back," Brennan said. Not that she really wanted to go back out there.

Angela's feet touched the floor again. She grabbed Brennan's shoulders and forced her to look at her.

"Why are you so worked up?" she almost whispered.

"I'm not worked up," she replied, taking another sip.

"Are you mad at me? Because _I_ should be mad at _you_ for keeping this from me."

Brennan turned around and opened the fridge again. She took out another beer for Booth. Angela continued.

"The only way I'm gonna forgive you is if it just happened, and you didn't have time to tell me."

Brennan didn't have much experience with silly situations as this one. She needed time to process. She didn't want to get into it.

"Of course I'm not mad. I'm... thirsty. We'll talk about this later."

"Don't worry. I'm not about to drop this one," Angela concluded. She was about to return to the living room when Brennan called her back.

"Ange..." She lowered her voice as her friend came back closer. She felt weird for asking, she didn't want to make a big deal out of this, but she couldn't help wanting to know. Though her vocabulary skills were well above average, no words came out. So she stood there, mouth opening and closing until she shut it for good. She concentrated on the cold sensation from the bottles of beer in her hands.

"It was over 3 years ago, Christmas party, I was eggnog-ed, dressed as an elf, under the mistletoe and it was only a peck. It was like kissing my brother."

She watched Angela leave. _Booth and mistletoe._ And she stood there a second before following her. _It was like kissing my brother._ Another sip of beer.

Brennan waited for Cam to get up and managed to sit back down between Booth and her. She handed one of the beers to him.

"Thanks. What happened to it?" he asked her, lifting the half empty bottle.

"Sorry, that's mine," she said, taking it back and handing him the unopened one.

"Did you spill?" he asked.

"Of course not! I didn't say anything. Not that there's anything to say since it didn't mean anything," she quickly reassured him.

She saw him frown and realized he hadn't meant "spill" as a colorful synonym for "talk".

"I didn't spill my beer, no. I drank." She breathed in. "So, who's winning?"

"It's not a win or lose type of game, Bones."

"I know that. Who's turn is it?"

"Why are you so snippy?" he pressed her.

"I'm not. I'd just like to know what's going on."

Before they could argue even more, Cam decided it was her turn.

"Ok! My turn! Never have I ever been in love," she said, taking a sip of her glass.

"Bottom's up!" Angela said, smiling from ear to ear, before gulping down almost all of hers.

Hodgins laughed, and drank, as did Sweets. Booth looked at Brennan before taking his beer to his mouth. She waited, wondering what would be a good question for her to ask next. They all just stared at her, waiting for something. _Whatever, right?_

"Uhm... Never have I ever seen a dead body," she said. _That's a good one. ... Isn't it?_

No one drank. Maybe she misunderstood the game, after all. They were still staring.

"You've never been in love, Dr Brennan?" Hodgins asked.

"That's why I didn't drink. Isn't it how we've been playing for the past 15 minutes?"

"Just checking..." he mumbled.

She saw Angela slowly shake her head and sigh.

Sweets carefully said, "I find it hard to believe..."

Booth knew Brennan was getting annoyed. He let her explain to them how love was merely some trick from the brain to force us into copulation, or something similar with better terminology. But he was getting annoyed, too. So he said,

"That's a load of crap."

_This is not a good idea, Booth..._ Cam warned him silently.

A little uncomfortable, but really fascinated, Sweets put his beer on the table, ready to listen and take notes in his mind.

_Uh, oh,_ Angela flinched, sinking into the couch.

_Ah! This is gonna be soooo good!_ Hodgins chuckled inside.

Booth recognized that look on her face, that clenching in her jaw. _Here we go._

"You're dismissing thousands of years of evolution. Just because you don't understand something doesn't mean you can just ignore the..."

"Exactly! Just because you don't understand something doesn't mean you can complicate it with scientific babble that sounds so smart. You can't tell me you've never felt the butterflies that start swarming around in your stomach, the..."

She interrupted him again with a laugh. "And how would those insects get into my stomach?"

"When you open up." The seriousness and intensity in his eyes shut her up. "Don't tell me you've never felt them. It's like someone's tickling your insides. And it makes your heart race."

His face drew imperceptibly closer to hers. Everyone else disappeared in a fuzzy blur when he locked his eyes with hers.

"When your eyes meet, for an instant, you feel as if no one else exists but you two." He waited to make sure she was listening. "When you're in love, you want to know, to understand the other person completely. You want to make them laugh. You think about that person all the time and you miss them when they're not around, sometimes even when they are there. You want to share everything. You feel good around them. You trust them with your life."

She tried to steady her breathing, but his eyes still on hers made it extremely difficult.

"Sometimes, whenever there's the slightest touch," he said as he ever so lightly brushed the back of her hand with his fingers, "you get palpitations, you're whole body comes to life, tingly and calling out the to the other. But it's not just physical because it goes deeper than that. In that moment, that instant when you feel as if they're looking right into your soul, that moment when, even if you're afraid to let them in, you want them to see you, you let the moment swallow you up into that connection..."

Booth realized he was still touching her hand. He slowly backed away. She was still looking at him.

Brennan couldn't take her eyes off of him, but thanks to Angela who cleared her throat at that exact second, she managed to blink and break away. She pretended to read the sticker on the beer bottle.

"Well," she said. Since no one was talking, she continued. "That sounds exhausting. Part of the symptoms even resembled some indicators of a heart attack."

They all laughed, even Booth. He laughed, shaking his head from side to side. She hid a smile.

"Let me rephrase the statement," Cam said. "Never have I ever felt what Booth just described."

They all drank, watching Brennan closely to see if she would, too. She rolled her eyes. Everything he had said, she had felt at the exact moment he had said it. And it shook her up big time. She knew it was only the power of suggestion mixed with Booth's alpha male charm. She was not in love with him. She was not capable of love. Not yet. She didn't understand love enough to experience it. She was not in love. She was not. But to be honest with everyone, not that it really mattered, she had to.

She drank.

_________________

TBC...


	2. While You're Making Plans

**A.N.**** I know it's early in our relationship for me to ask you to trust me, but PLEASE trust me. I have a plan. And a great one at that. I swear. **

Chapter 2  
**While You're Making Plans**

They hadn't succeeded in getting Sweets drunk, but they had managed to get her tipsy, she realized, looking for her car keys. Everyone was getting ready to leave. You could see the effect of alcohol as everyone hugged and cheek-kissed their friends goodbye.

"Could you drive me home?" Angela asked her. "I can't drive and I can't ask Hodgins. I'm so drunk that if he looks at me one more time with those little puppy eyes, I'm gonna break my vow of celibacy just to cheer him up."

Brennan laughed. "No problem."

She watched Angela hug everyone again, as she waved a collective goodbye and went to wait outside in the hall. She leaned her back on the wall, sighed and closed her eyes. All that paperwork to finish... She'd have to wake up early in the morning to get through it in time.

"I don't know how we're ever gonna get Sweets drunk. That boy in undrunkable," Booth sighed, joining her.

She laughed. "'Undrunkable is not a word."

"It is. I just said it."

"Just because you say something doesn't make it true..."

He knew what she was referring to. "I got you to take a sip, so it must have been true. Unless you drank so that we'd all move off your case." He looked at her and leaned on the wall beside her.

"Were you drinking the truth?" he asked. Their arms brushed together. His cologne was getting to her.

"I guess..." she answered.

"Good for you," he said, bumping her with his elbow. He wondered if she was thinking of Sully and realized he was clenching his fists.

They waited in silence for a minute. _Come on, Ange! _She took his left wrist and pulled up his sleeve.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She turned the bracelet of his watch to check the time and let go of him. Angela finally made her appearance.

"Booth!" she exclaimed. "Did I say goodbye to you?"

"Twice," he replied with a laugh. "I hope you're not driving."

"Got my chauffeur right here." She pointed to Brennan. "Goodbye, Booth," she said again, hugging him. He kissed her on the cheek while Brennan kept her eyes down on the floor.

"I'll wait for you outside, sweetie," Angela let out before walking off, shoes in hand.

Booth and Brennan were just standing there. They never kissed goodbye, but they couldn't just shake hands, right? Too uncomfortable, Brennan found an excuse.

"I better go after her before she forgets I'm driving her home..."

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow..."

"See you."

Brennan didn't run out, but she was quickly on the sidewalk. She unlocked the door for Angela and sat behind the wheel. Her friend kept talking on the way, providing a good amount of distraction for Brennan to keep her mind off of Booth's cologne lingering on her clothes and making her insides jump every time she breathed in. When they arrived at Angela's apartment, Brennan waited for her to take off her seatbelt. She didn't. Instead, she started talking again.

"I really hope you're not mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?" Brennan asked.

"For kissing Booth years ago."

Surprised, maybe. And confused, too.

"It wasn't a real kiss, I swear," Angela continued.

Brennan was tired and she didn't see the point of getting into all the reasons why it was illogical for her to care. She didn't want to explain why it was irrational for her to be jealous of her beautiful friend. That wonderful woman who was always kind, always unexplainably glowing with joy... That woman who didn't have to force anyone to kiss her.

"Don't worry," Brennan assured her. "It's not like our kiss was real either."

She had forced him into it. She had grabbed him so he wouldn't pull away... It was a blackmail kiss, nothing more. She had to remember that.

Angela undid her seatbelt and turn to her. "Now, don't tell me you two didn't kiss for real. Everything that involves you both should be rated R."

Fine! She'd get into it. It's not like she hadn't gone over it 478 times already.

"For starters, we weren't alone."

Before Angela's mind went somewhere inappropriate, she continued.

"Caroline Julian was there."

That didn't sound any better apparently, since Angela was covering her mouth, trying not to burst out in laughter.

"It was over a year ago when I wanted to get a trailer so that my brother and the kids could see my dad for Christmas. Caroline wanted to see us kiss. I put up mistletoe, and I..."

_Grabbed him, caught his eyes on my lips, and lost it._

Brennan shook off the image. "I kissed him. We never talked about it, we never will. It didn't mean anything."

"I'm sure it would if you wanted it to..." Angela told her.

_Yeah, sure. It's a proven fact that wishful thinking has always worked. _

"Ange, he... _we_ did not want to kiss. I obligated him to. A means to an end. That's it."

"Did that means include tongue?" Angela added with a smirk.

She could still feel its warmth. She could still taste it. _STOP IT._

"Only because... When... It's a physiological reflex, you know?"

"You squeezed him too hard, and his tongue popped out?" Angela laughed.

"Shouldn't you be getting home?" Brennan concluded.

"Fine." Angela got out of the car. "But just so you know... If you're still thinking about it the way I think you do, it _was_ a real kiss, and it meant way more to you than you'll ever admit, so I'll stop asking about it." And she disappeared into her apartment building.

Angela usually gave good advice. But since she was too drunk to drive, she was undoubtedly too drunk to know what she was saying. Brennan didn't think twice about it and drove home as if nothing had been said.

***

At 5:42 am, Brennan was out of the shower. The forms, the reports, the records... All the boring paperwork was waiting for her on the kitchen table, and her apartment was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed Guatemalan dark roasted beans.

At 5:49 am, Brennan was dressed and serving herself a huge cup of coffee. She felt good. Great, even, because she had taken a big decision.

Today, she was a new Brennan. Ok, even to her that sounded weird. But starting today, she would try and go out more. Before partnering up with Booth, there was black, and there was white. But he had to come in and brought all that grey with him. All that confusing grey was making her life way too complicated. And way more interesting, but that wasn't the problem. These past four years, she had grown too close to Booth for her own good. And that could never go anywhere, not that she wanted it to. Starting today, she would no longer have to try to stop reacting to every little touch, every look and every smile. Because she didn't care. Really. Objectively speaking, those... uhm... _emotions_ –for lack of a better term- were inevitable. They were simply caused by proximity. So, if she detached herself from him, even just a little, she could stop overanalyzing everything. And it wouldn't have to become an issue.

Satisfied, she set her coffee cup on the table, pulled a chair, and jumped at the sound of knocks on the front door. She knew who it was before she even heard his voice.

"Bones!"

_Knock, knock._

Frozen in place, she instinctively looked around for somewhere to hide. She almost laughed at herself for acting so strangely. It was only Booth. She opened the door.

"I brought bagels..." he said, wearing his boyish smile and holding up a paper bag.

"It's barely 6. Do we have another case already?" she asked, letting him in.

"No, I promised you I would help with the paperwork. So, here I am!" He handed her the bagels. "Did you start without me?" he asked, taking his black jacket off and putting it on the back of a chair.

"You could have called first," she said, shutting the door and following him.

"You don't call people at 6 am!" he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then he was already in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboard.

"But you can just show up?"

He didn't answer, clearly looking for something. _Oh! There it is!_ He walked to the table and took the green coffee cup.

"That's mine!" she said, taking it back.

"I thought you poured it for me."

She frowned. "I didn't know you'd be here, why would I have coffee waiting for you?"

"Because that's _my _mug," he said, going for it again.

"It's mine," she insisted. "_I_ bought it." She poured him another cup and handed it to him. "Here. Enjoy."

What was up with her?

"But _that_'s the one I always use whenever I'm here..." he lingered, pointing to the green one.

Nothing.

"Fine," he abdicated with a pout.

She watched him sit down, as if he were in his own kitchen, wondering when they had become so at ease. When had the boundaries disappeared?

"I would really appreciate it next time if you'd call first. Even if it's 6 am. _Especially_, if it's 6 am."

Booth knew it was early, but he also knew she'd be up. She was already dressed and ready to work. What was the big deal? It hit him suddenly, and he lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Oh! Do you... Is there someone...?" He motioned towards the bedroom.

"There could be."

"But there isn't."

"That's not the point!"

Booth felt a little more relieved than he probably should have.

"It's not the first time you show up like this. And remember last time I had..."

"A friend over. The deep sea welder you kept indoors. I know. I just figured..."

"You think it won't happen again?" she interrupted him. "I'm an attractive woman, you know?"

"Oh, I know," he let out.

The silence that followed was thickened by staring on both parts. Brennan was the first to break eye contact. If she hadn't known better, she'd have said her heart had just stopped for a whole second. _When the heart stops, you die._ Her plan of detaching herself was clearly flawed. She would have to work on it.

She sat down before glancing at him again. He was looking at the green cup she was still holding. With a sigh of resignation, she put it in front of him and took the other one. He grinned. She rolled her eyes. They got to work.

***

Brennan had been waiting for 15 minutes outside a cute little restaurant in Georgetown that Angela had picked out from her bran new GPS. Her friend was late, she was starving, her feet were killing her and she'd just realized she had forgotten her cell phone in her office. She was about to return to her car when she heard a man call out her name.

"Temperance?"

She turned towards the voice. That handsome man looked familiar... but she could not remember his name.

"Hi!" she said, searching her memory for the slightest hint as to who he was.

He walked up to her. He seemed really happy to see her. If only she could recall something about him other than the fact she was pretty sure she had never slept with him...

"It's been a while," she said awkwardly. She wasn't too good with reunions, especially those with people she didn't know.

"Five years, I believe?"

_Right! _

"Cal!" she exclaimed before she could stop herself. "What are you doing in D.C.?" She was trying to sound casual, hoping he would not notice she had been pretending.

"You didn't remember me, did you?" he said with a laugh.

"No, I didn't," she admitted. "But I do now. You were Peter's friend from Chicago."

Peter, the ex-boyfriend whose TV she had destroyed.

"Haven't seen or talked to him in ages," he said. "My company is opening its 7th hotel. I'm just here to oversee things. It's good to see you! I never thought you'd still be in town. I figured you'd be in the Middle East or in Africa."

She remembered now. He talked a lot.

"For the past four years, I've been mainly working with the FBI full time," she explained.

"Nice. Last time I saw you, you were moving in with Pete."

"Yeah..."

"Still with him?" he asked even though he knew she was not.

Brennan was shaking her head no, about to answer him, when she spotted Booth coming down the street.

Booth saw her standing on the sidewalk where Angela said she'd be. He was about to wave when he saw she wasn't alone. She was with a tall, blond, tanned... She was with a man. He picked up the pace. Maybe that model wannabe was bothering her.

Brennan noticed Booth was approaching faster. She tried to ignore him.

Cal asked, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Uhm... no."

What was he doing here?

"You don't sound certain..." Cal laughed.

She tried to concentrate on the man in front of her.

"I am," she said. "No, I mean, I am certain that I am _not_ seeing anybody. At the moment."

Booth was only a few feet away. Cal noticed Brennan glancing at a tall, dark haired, not-so-friendly-looking man wearing a suit.

"A friend of yours?" he asked her.

She turned her head to Booth and said,

"He's my partner. FBI partner."

Cal had a feeling once that man joined them, he would never get a chance to ask her.

"I would love to take you out before I leave town," he said rapidly, handing her his business card. "You call me if you..."

Booth was already there.

"Hi, there," he said with his deep FBI voice. Brennan shut her eyes only for a second to sigh, and before she opened them again, Booth had one arm around her shoulders. She tensed instantly.

"Hi," Cal greeted him back without flinching. He held out his hand. "I'm Cal." Brennan suddenly was fascinated. It wasn't often that another man stood up to Booth's alpha male standing. She took his arm off of her. The men shook hands.

"_Agent _Booth," her partner felt the need to say.

Before they battled for status, Brennan broke up the party.

"It was good to see you, Cal."

But when she perceived the shadow of a content smirk on Booth's face, she seized the opportunity. This was her chance to put her new self out there.

"I'll definitely use this," she said, showing him his business card. "Soon."

Cal smiled and walked away. Not without glancing back at her.

"You'll use it as what? A handkerchief?" Booth joked, taking the card from her.

"Give it back," she ordered.

He examined the card. "What? You want to rent a luxurious hotel room?"

She stole it back and put it in her purse. "It's his business card. With his phone number."

"What for?" he questioned her.

"So I can call him."

"So... you'll call Cal?" he said, trying so hard not to giggle like a little girl at the ridiculous sound of it. Then he grew serious. "You're gonna go out with him," he said out loud, to make it sound more real. He ignored the sting in his stomach, and before she even answered, he added, "Do you even know this guy?"

"No," she said bluntly. "He's a perfect stranger."

She was being sarcastic? This was not good. He thought it'd be better to drop the subject for now. Maybe she'd lose that business card over lunch... He held the restaurant door open for her, but saw her frown.

"Why are you here?" she wondered.

"Right!" Booth let the door close and reached in his pocket. "Angela sent me to give you this..." he said, handing her her cell phone. "And to tell you she would not be able to make it."

She watched him reopen the door for her. She heard the faint classical music coming from inside, saw the dim lights, felt the romantic ambiance... _Angela picked a weird type of restaurant for a casual, middle of the week lunch. _

"You coming?" Booth asked, getting concerned. She looked at him again. No. There was no way she was eating in there alone with him.

"You know what?" she started. "Cal's not in town for very long. I think I'll... Yeah." She took out his card, her cell phone, and turned around. "I'll see you later!" she let out before walking away, already dialling.

Booth stood there, like paralyzed. What the hell had just happened? His partner always wanted to have lunch with him. His Bones would never have ditched him for a guy. Right? Confused and dazzled, he looked inside the restaurant. No. There was no way he was eating in there by himself. _Angela picked a weird type of restaurant for a casual, middle of the week lunch. _

***

Booth made his way through the Jeffersonian, looking for Hodgins. Maybe he would join him for lunch. Walking past Cam's office, he heard laughs and few sentences that made no sense. Angela was talking.

"But is it a date when you don't know it's a date? Because unless someone tells them, it'll probably take years before they figure it out."

He entered without knocking since the door was open. Plus, two women laughing always triggered his curiosity.

"Oh!" Cam let out as she saw him irrupt in the doorway. She hid her mouth behind a napkin, possibly wiping off a chuckle. "Booth!"

He noticed Angela's frown.

"Booth? Why aren't you with Brennan?"

Cam and she exchanged a loaded look.

"You know, Angela," Booth began. "Bones' feelings don't get hurt, but she might want to know why you couldn't have lunch with her when you had time to eat with Cam..."

"I..." Angela didn't know what to say.

"We were working," Cam said to help her.

"Obviously," he nodded.

"I thought I couldn't. It turned out I could, but by then, you were already gone. So I thought... I would work. With Cam, here." Angela took a breath. "Where _is_ Brennan anyway?"

Booth tried to sound casual. "She... uhm... I don't really know. She met some old friend. You really should call her. He looked a little off."

He turned around and fled.

"Maybe you should have planned this a little more carefully..." Cam told Angela.

The artist dropped the fry she was holding.

"Yeah. You know it was a crappy date when the gal meets someone else and goes for it."

---------------------

**TBC...** Probably wasn't the most exciting chapter of all time, but I really had to set this up. I hope you'll stick with me! I don't wanna write it if no one cares...

**NEXT UP: **  
_Poker, jealousy and chemistry_. That's a whole lot of sexual tension. PLUS, Brennan discovers she kind of like the jealous Booth... and she might try and test him a little. But that's all in her subconscious, of course. Because that'd be puerile and pointless. Right?


	3. The Happiness Effect

**A.N.**** Thanks for all the reviews! You see how it paid off? A brand new chapter, freshly written in one day! Keep pushing me, dear readers! Hope you like this one, too. :) It's a little shorter than the others, but it's because the next one will be way packed, so I had to stop here to give you something.**

Chapter 3  
**The Happiness Effect**

"So, Peter's friend, huh? What does he do? Ok, I'm almost done with the cranial structure… I'll just… Here. Does this friend have a friend? What's he like? Is he anything like Pete? Because I didn't like him very much."

Angela was great at multitasking. While inputting facial reconstruction data into her computer, she could sustain multiple conversations and still sound like she cared.

"It was only one date, Ange. Don't get all… excited."

"But aren't _you_ excited? First dates are supposed to…"

A screechy sound pierced their ears. "Eeeeh! You and Booth finally had that date?!" Daisy hopped into the room, clapping her tiny hands.

"What? Why would Booth and I go on a date?" Brennan exclaimed, really puzzled.

Angela was trying in vain to discreetly get Daisy's attention, but the young woman continued in the same tone.

"Oh! You don't have to pretend. I know all about it, Angela told m…" She finally saw Angela's wide eyed warning and understood just in time. She finished her sentence by shaking her head no. "Nah. Just kidding!"

Angela jumped in before the doctor could ask more questions that could get her in big trouble. "Daisy's confused. I told her you had a date and she thought… you know."

"Why would you think Booth and I would go on a date?" she asked Daisy.

Still shaking her head, smiling, Daisy read on Angela's face. _Don't you answer that._

"No reason. I jumped to conclusion."

"You know how I feel about that," Brennan replied, with her scary teacher's voice.

Daisy wanted to crawl underneath the floor. "So! Who was the lucky datee?"

Frowning at yet another fake word, Brennan let Angela answer.

"A man named Cal she met years ago. If you're looking for Sweets, he's…"

"Oooh! First dates are awesome!" she yelped.

Printing Angela's work, Brennan replied, "I don't like first dates. They're usually a waste of time."

"Of course, you'd say that," Angela mocked her.

"You said usually?" Daisy chimed in.

Angela turned to Brennan. She typically meant everything she said. Could that Cal guy stick around? She wasn't too sure how she felt about that but she knew how Booth would.

"It was pleasant," Brennan simply said.

"Pleasant is good!" Daisy exclaimed.

_Way to state the obvious. You're not making points, honey._

"Well," she continued. "I'm off to meet Lance. He's cooking tonight. Isn't he adorable?"

They watched her leave.

"Don't you feel drained every time she leaves a room?" Angela laughed. "She's so perky!"

"How can she be so happy all the time?"

"I doubt she's happy _all_ the time," Angela clarified.

"You're like that, too."

"What?!" Angela almost yelled, offended. "You're kidding, right?"

Brennan put the copies she just printed out in a folder.

"You look joyful all the time. Even when you're sad, you smile. How do you do it?"

Angela thought about it. "I guess I fake it."

"You lie?"

"No. You know the expression 'Fake it 'til you make it'. If you put yourself in a happy predisposition, people will think you're happy and feed off your happiness, get happy themselves, and you'll eventually feel happy for real."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Don't knock it until you try it!" Angela said. "You got everything you need?"

Realizing she meant everything _work-related_, she nodded.

"Well, I'm off. G'night!"

Brennan stayed behind after everyone had gone home. She sat at her desk and pondered. She wasn't too good at faking. But maybe she should still try it, see how it felt. She turned off the computer, the lights and shut the door behind her.

_I'm happy. _She smiled, alone in the hall. _Nah._ She took a deep breath. _Hi, I'm happy, see?_ She smiled again until her cheeks hurt. _This is useless._

***

She already was at the scene where the skeleton was found when she saw Booth get out of his SUV. She walked up to him. Time to put Angela's theory to the test.

"Booth! Hi!" She remembered to smile. But that smile felt genuine. "How are you?"

There was something different about her. She was… He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Hi," he said back, taking off his sunglasses.

Brennan almost stopped herself because he looked damn good, but she got over it and tangled her arm with his. _This feels way too weird._ She wished he'd stop using that pheromone inducing aftershave.

Booth looked down at her. He had seen her that happy once or twice. The first time was…

"Tell me they didn't find another meth mummy ?"

"What? No!" she laughed. "Turned out it was just an anthropoid."

"Huh? Like a… robot?"

She burst out in laughter. A real, non-fake laugh. It turned out pretending to be happy around Booth was easier that she'd ever thought it'd be.

"An ape."

"As in _monkey_?"

"Yes. But substantially bigger."

"What would a monkey do…" he chuckled. "Why would there be a _big monkey_ in the middle of a downtown sewer system?"

"I don't know and I don't care," she replied lightly. "My job's done."

"Then why did you call me down here?"

Right. Maybe he had something more important to do than to unknowingly serve as a guinea-pig today.

"I thought we'd go out for lunch, but if you have plans, I…"

_Quick!_

"No! I'd be happy to," he said a little too fast for his own taste.

"Great! You drive," she said, opening the passenger door.

_You_ drive? Maybe she was dying.

"You ok? You look… weird."

_I knew this would never work._

"I'm not weird. I'm happy. See?"

She was so adorable he couldn't help but smile, too.

Brennan couldn't believe it. The experiment was turning out to be a success. She couldn't wait to tell Angela.

***

The waitress arrived with two glasses of water and took their order. A few minutes later, before Booth realized what was going on, she was stealing his fork and taking a bite from his apple pie. And she didn't even grimace.

He loudly put back his coffee on the table, folded his forearms in front of him, leaned over and asked, "Ok. That's enough. Tell me what's going on. Did you win the lottery or something?"

"I'm already rich. Why would I apply to win the lottery?"

"You don't _apply_ to win the lottery, Bones."

"Exactly."

"Never mind that. I wanna know what's up with you!"

Brennan was a little taken aback. Angela never said anything about people getting curious as to _why_ she was joyful.

"What do you mean?" she asked to buy some time.

"I mean, you tasted the pie, for crying out loud!"

He looked mad. That was not supposed to happen. She was on the verge of getting pissed, too.

"What? The one time in four years you don't offer me any, and you're actually mad that I took a small bite?"

"That's not the…"

"You want me to pay you back?"

"No, I don't want you to pay m…"

"I'm sorry, ok? Won't happen again."

He resisted the urge of slamming his fist onto the tabletop.

"Forget about the pie!" he cried out. "I wanna know what's going on. You're letting me drive without fussing, you t…"

"I don't fuss."

"You do. All the time! Now you smile for no reason, you…"

"Oh! Excuse me! Is my happiness getting in the way of your grunting?"

"What the h…" He realized everyone was staring, so he lowered his voice. "I just wanna know _why_ you're so happy! You used to talk to me. I feel like you're…"

He shut up, unable to say it. He felt like he was losing her. She was changing and he didn't know where he stood anymore. Not that he ever really knew.

Brennan had lost control over the situation. She had no clue what was going on. Playing this game, Brennan hadn't realized she needed to find an excuse to be happy. Angela hadn't told her the complete set of rules. She thought by faking giddiness, everyone around her would imprint on her, not that she'd be facing the Great Inquisition!

"Is it… Do you…" He cleared his throat and tried to sound calm. "Does it have anything to do with your new boyfriend?"

A boyfriend? Cal and she only had one date and didn't even kiss! There was no way he was her boyfriend. But she had to find a reason. And the way he had said 'boyfriend', with contempt mixed with a smirk... As if it'd be completely impossible for her to date. Before she could think, she reacted and said,

"He's supposed to call me later."

She saw it. The moment Booth's face changed. She just didn't know what it meant. And he didn't want her to know, because he said,

"Great!"

Boy, did that man need a lesson or two in faking happiness!

Brennan let her eyes drift off onto the napkin dispenser. Booth's reaction was interesting, to say the least. Even though she was too ashamed to admit it, she kind of liked the attention he was giving her.

"So! What does Mr. Motel do exactly?"

"He already owns six_ hotels,_" she corrected him in passing, "and right now, he's supervising the construction of his seventh, here in Georgetown."

"Impressive," he said, not really impressed. "What's his name?" He hadn't had time to read it on his business card because she had taken it away from him too fast.

She hesitated. "Cal…" she finally said.

"What's his full name?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Because you don't know?" he wanted to laugh.

"Because I know you."

"What's that mean?"

"It means if I tell you his full name or the name of his hotel branch, for that matter, you will run a background check on him."

Booth stole one of her fries. Was he _that_ predictable?

"Fine. Don't tell me. Be secretive."

She took her plate of fries and put it on her lap to keep him from eating them all. None of them found anything to say to break the awkward silence until her phone rang.

"Brennan," she answered.

"Is that him?" Booth whispered not so quietly.

On impulse, she shushed him with her fingers on his lips. They both froze. As if her hand were on fire, she drew it back and hid it under the table, and she almost dropped her phone.

"No, I'm here. Hold on…" She intended on putting her plate back onto the table, but Booth reached so he could take a handful, so she took it with her and walked to the counter.

Booth pressed his lips together. He checked his phone for no reason; he just wanted something to do. He heard her giggle. Eyes shut, he sighed. Eyes open, he scratched his head. He looked at her… still on the phone. Now she was playing with her hair. _Come on!_ He saw her hang up and automatically put his cell up to his ear.

"Yup. Got it," he said, loud and clear, so she would overhear. "Alright. Bye."

"Who were you talking to?" she asked him, sitting back down.

"Who were _you_ talking to?" he parroted.

He thought he saw her blush, but the great Dr. Brennan never blushed. Right ? She didn't answer so he did.

"That was Charlie from the Bureau. He needs my help with something. So, I gotta go. Do you need me to drive you back to the Jeffersonian?"

"Nope."

He waited for an explanation that never came.

"Ok… But I'm leaving." Maybe she hadn't heard.

"And I'm staying," she declared.

_Oh._

"Is he meeting you here?" he couldn't help but ask.

Brennan tried really hard not to smile. If she had known how to recognize the signs of jealousy, she would've known why he was acting strangely. But she was amused, nothing more, because she didn't know any better. So Booth was safe, for now.

"Fine, don't tell me," he said.

Before he walked out, she called him back.

"Booth!"

He turned back to her.

"Promise me you won't use your badge to check him out."

He didn't want to lie to her. She titled her head in the sweetest way possible.

"I promise."

_Damn._ And he was out.

***

"Charlie, I need a favor," Booth said, entering his colleague's office space.

"Name it."

He never promised her he wouldn't use someone else's badge. Right?

"I need you to find anything you can on a man whose name or nickname is Cal. He owns seven hotels and has a construction permit for one of them in Georgetown."

Charlie was waiting for some more info.

"What are you waiting for? I need this now," Booth ordered. "Please," he added.

"That's it?" the poor guy said. "That's all the intel you got?"

"That's why I need you to help me. Is that a problem?"

"Well… it could take me forever, but sure."

"And you're supposed to be a federal agent…" Booth muttered to himself.

He walked to his office and heard Charlie shout, "Hey, Booth!"

He spun back around.

"Would this be someone your gorgeous doctor's seeing?" he guessed.

Booth stood tall, almost intimidating. But his voice was a little off.

"Yes. I'm just worried. He looks like he could be into something."

"Oh, he's into something alright…" Charlie let out.

Booth was quickly looking over his shoulder. "You found something already?"

Charlie laughed. "I'm just saying. He's probably into the same thing you are, man."

"Shut up."

Booth went to his office and shut the door. Or maybe he slammed it, judging by the startled jump some of his coworkers made.

***

"… That only proves my point. My celibacy is such a turn on for guys! I've never had more indecent proposals," Angela concluded.

"I'm glad you called when you did," Brennan confessed.

"Why?"

"I was having another bickering match with Booth."

Angela, really not surprised, tried to hide a grin.

"I thought you said being cheerful stimulated similar responses around you."

"I don't think I've ever said it quite as cleverly, but why not? What happened?"

"I have no idea." She really didn't.

"Well, I'm not expert, but… Maybe you should just give it some time."

Angela knew too well how her best friend could be too eager sometimes.

"What are you gonna do about Cal?" she asked.

Brennan sighed.

"Do you think I should date him?"

Angela chuckled. "Am I officially your romantic advisor? Maybe I should start charging you."

"I'm sorry," Brennan quickly apologized. "I know I'm always…"

"I was joking, Bren. I love that you come to me with this stuff. I just can't tell you what to do." _Believe me I would if I thought you were ready. Last time I tried, you almost bit my head off._ "I say… Stop thinking and just go with the flow."

Blank face.

"Just do what you feel is right."

"I'm not too good with the feeling stuff."

"Yes you are. You're a woman. Just trust yourself."

At that exact moment, her cell rang. She answered.

***

"What kind of people name their kid _Callister Lauser_?" Booth laughed, holding the blank criminal record. _Well, that's disappointing. _But it was good, right? At least Bones was safe this time. In theory.

"Probably the same kind of people who name their kid Seeley Booth…" Charlie said before getting slapped behind the head.

***

"How would you feel about another date?" Angela faintly heard Cal's voice ask through the phone on Brennan's ear.

How would she feel? Good question. He was fun. He was handsome. He was available and interested… And Booth would go crazy.

"How about tonight?"

She smiled broadly at her friend, who was looking at her.

Angela wanted the best for Brennan. She really did, with all her heart. She wanted her to be happy. And if she needed to try to be happy with some other man to realize what would really make her happy, she would have to hush up that annoying little voice in her heart that had been yelling non-stop for the past four years: "HE'S RIGHT THERE, SWEETIE! WAKE UP!"

She smiled back at Brennan, but whimpered inside.

-----------------

TBC…

**Had more to write than I thought I would… so POKER is next, I swear. Along with REAL BB sexual tension. Follow me!!**


	4. Bullshit Showdown

**A.N.**** You guys are AWESOME! Thanks for the feedback! No wonder I bust my a** to type as fast I as think. Not _exactly_ what I had in mind when I started it, but still close enough to my outline...**

Chapter 4  
**Bullshit Showdown**

Brennan had never been that nervous before, not that kind of nervous, anyway. She couldn't remember the last time she had hosted friends in her home. Tonight, there would be Booth, Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Sweets, Daisy. Oh, and Cal, of course, since she was organizing this whole thing so that he could stop saying he wanted to meet them. He was peculiarly interested in getting to know Booth for some reason. He said she talked about him all the time, which was nonsense. She did _not_ speak of Booth all the time. Though now, ever since Cal had told her she did, she started to refrain from saying his name too much. And she refrained _a lot._

Things were going well with them. She felt this was a real, mature relationship. He worked all the time, she worked all the time, they saw each other maybe every other week. It was perfect. But, of course, Booth had something to say about that.

"You don't spend much time with him."

Even though part of her found his overprotective side quite charming at times, she was getting irritated. This was getting old and she had dropped the happy act some time ago already.

"I'm pretty independent. I don't need to be with the man I'm dating 24/7. I get bored easily. This is perfect."

"What about Sully? You spent all your free time with him."

"That was different. The sex was incredible," she said, waiting for him to shudder in puritan disgust.

Aw! Booth did not need more mental images. He was already staring at the skin of her lower back as she tip-toed to reach a book on the top shelf. He buried his hands in his pockets.

"So Lauser's lousy in bed?"

"I wouldn't know," she replied, putting the book down and pulling on the hem of her shirt.

A lot more at ease now, Booth pulled a chair and sat down on the other side of her desk.

"It's been 5 weeks, give or take, and still nothing?" Why was he talking about that? He didn't wanna talk about that!

She realized it was unusual for her to wait that long to consummate a relationship, but she didn't mind. Cal was attractive and everything, but she didn't want to force things.

He put his feet up on the desk, but she walked to him and pushed them off.

"You have a problem with that, too?" she checked.

"God! No!" he laughed. "It's totally your business."

"Thank you." Finally! "Here you go. The preliminary findings on Jane Doe 794. You need me to explain them to you?"

"I'm starting to get the hang of it, thanks."

He got up.

"I'm happy for you, you know," he told her.

"What for?"

"You seem to have a real... relationship. I'm happy for you."

Brennan frowned.

"It's not like it's my first one, Booth."

Why was she looking for a fight, again? He was just trying to be nice!

"I've even lived with a man before," she specified.

The need to say it was overwhelming... "So, you've had a roommate."

"You're one to talk! I don't see you dating anyone. In fact, you haven't dated in ages."

Ouch.

"That's because_ I_ don't go flaunting it in your face!"

She felt as if he had just slapped her.

"I'm not flaunting it! You asked about him. _You _wanted to know!"

"Only because you were burning to tell me!"

They were both out of breath, dazzled. Neither of them understood what was happening to them. _We need more therapy,_ Booth thought.

Brennan looked around the room, pursing her lips. After a moment, she said,

"This is ridiculous. This conversation is pointless."

"That was not a conversation. That was a fight." Another one.

"No wonder we fight all the time, you keep correcting me every time I'm trying to say som..."

"_I'm _correcting _you_? Are you nuts?"

"See?! You just did it again! Would you stop..."

"My thoughts exactly!" Cam shouted from outside the office. "Would you both, please, stop arguing? Or take it somewhere else."

They both looked down, embarrassed.

"Thank you," Cam sighed. She turned around and stopped holding the smirk she was hiding. _Put some more cameras in this place, and you get a great reality show._

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to be the better man. "I can't wait to meet him properly, tonight."

"Funny. He said the same thing about you."

"You talk about me?" he teased her.

Her flat out response took him by surprise.

"Yes."

"What do you say?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him tonight?" she suggested.

Oh yeah, sure. He could totally picture it. _Hey man, what does your girl say when she talks about me?_

"You need me to bring anything?"

She thought for a second.

"No. Just be there at 7."

***

He was there at 6 h 17.

She wasn't even ready yet. She put on her little green dress and tried to zip the back, but she didn't get very far. When he knocked, she yelled "Come in!" and finished putting on her earrings in front of her bedroom mirror.

Booth's breath got stuck in his throat. The vision in front of him made his heart race. Her dress was still open in the back and he could see her dark mocha laced bra wrapped around her silky ivory upper body. And he just stood there like an idiot, lips slightly parted, pants getting tight. She was standing in front of the mirror, slightly leaning forward, barefoot.

"You're early," she said, unaware he was gazing at her.

"I'm sorry about that. I just dropped Parker at Rebecca's and I didn't feel like driving back home, so I just..." His voice fainted. He had to stop looking. This was not healthy.

She finally turned around. She grabbed her pumps on the floor and steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, sliding them on, one by one. He took in the delicious smell of her hair, shut his eyes and counted to three.

_That's enough, Booth. _

"Thanks," she said. "Could you..."

She turned her back to him again. He held his breath. _You're the devil. _Before she could figure out he was barely in control of himself, he gently pushed her hair to the side so that it wouldn't get in the way.

As his fingers brushed her neck, she felt her knees starting to buckle. She took a deep breath. She grabbed her hair and their fingers met for a brief second. What was taking so long?

Oblivious to the physical reaction he was provoking in her, he placed his left hand in the middle of her lower back to take the end of the zipper, and he slowly slid it up.

He was done, but neither of them could look at the other. Booth wished the phone would ring, but it didn't.

"How do I look?" she finally said, now facing him.

"Grrood!" _FUCK._ "I mean great. Good."

"You look tense," she said.

_Ha! Ha! No kidding!_

"I'm fine. Long day."

She smiled knowingly.

"Don't worry. Cal likes everybody."

_Great. I feel so much better._

Much to Booth's relief, they exited the bedroom and headed for a much safer room. The huge living room. He adored that room. If it were his, he would have a huge plasma scr...

"What's this?"

She followed his eyes and wondered if he was already drunk.

"That's a TV..." she said, slowly, suddenly concerned about him.

_D'oh!_

"That's not a TV," he whispered, approaching it like in trance, "that's a 1920 x 1080p resolution 60 inches plasma screen with a ISFccc calibration feature. That. Is the most. Beautiful thing. I. Have. Ever. Seen."

Brennan laughed.

"You finally listened to me, huh? I'm so proud of you, Bones!" He bumped her in the arm.

"It was a gift from Cal."

Oh.

Booth detached his eyes from the screen and opened one of the beers he had brought with him. She was still talking.

"Personally, I think it's a little too big, but I guess he knows what..."

She shut up. Booth was sulking. _Great._

"What now?" she asked.

"Nothing."

He took a sip before he handed her a bottle. She took it.

"I know you've got something to say. Just say it."

"It's nothing. I... He doesn't know you that well, does he?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Giving you a TV? Come on. It's the last thing you want."

"No, it's not. It's a very kind attention from a man who..."

"From a man who has a lot of money. You don't need a TV."

She sat down on her couch, and groaned.

"Gah! Booth! Come on! You were the first telling me I needed a TV!"

_That is so true, pal. You're busted._

"Because it's our thing."

"What thing? We don't have a thing."

"We have _loads_ of things. This being one of them. I tell you you need a TV, you tell me you don't. Over and over."

"So what, now you're mad at me because we got one less thing to argue about?"

"Aw, Bones." He sat down beside her. "I am not mad at you. I just think it's stupid of him to be spending all that money on a TV you'll never use."

"I use it all the time."

He chuckled. He reached for the remote and pressed 'Power'. Nothing. He tried again, not even looking at the screen. He was waiting for her to react. And she did. She jumped up.

"It's already broken? That's impossible! I n..."

"You never even turned it on."

She stayed quiet for a second, trying to avoid admitting he was right.

"How do you know?" she mumbled.

"Because..." he said, sliding off the little door on the back, "... there are no batteries in the remote."

"Gimme that," she said, seizing it from his hands.

She went to the kitchen to find batteries.

"Aren't you glad I got a TV, though? Now you can come over and watch... uhm... bowling or something."

"Why would I watch bowling?"

"You love sports."

"It's really not something you watch on the most beautiful TV ever created. Or any TV, for that matter."

Someone knocked at the door. She threw him the remote.

"Here. Have fun," she said. And she went to let people in.

***

Everyone was here, except for Cal. And it was already 8. She kept glancing at the door every five minutes. She really wanted everyone to meet him. Anxious, she checked her cell for new messages.

"Maybe he won't show," Hodgins said before getting slapped in the shoulder by Angela.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," Daisy tried to comfort her. Sweets agreed with him. So did everyone else.

She turned to Angela and whispered. "What if Hodgins' right? What if he doesn't show?"

"Don't worry. If he doesn't show, he will have a former sniper hunting him down."

She smiled. And she knew she wasn't kidding, so she hoped he'd arrive soon.

There was beer, vodka, scotch, margaritas, there was music, there was a huge TV... but they were all sitting there, doing nothing. This was a disaster.

Everyone suddenly stopped talking. There was someone at the door. Brennan's heart stopped. She wasn't too sure she wanted him to meet everyone. What if...

"Bones, maybe you should get the door?" he laughed.

She stood up unsteadily. This was _such_ a bad idea. She straightened her outfit. That freaking silence was killing her. She knew they were all staring as she opened the door.

"I am so terribly sorry, Tempe."

She smiled and let him in. "It's fine."

"Hi..." he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. He leaned in and kissed her slowly.

Booth swallowed the big lump in his throat. He couldn't help but stare, teeth clenched, as she kissed him back.

Angela, who was watching Booth, nudged Cam and motioned her chin towards him. Cam shook her head, discouraged.

"Everybody, this is Cal," she said.

They all got up in one sweep. Cal laughed.

"Well, this is not at all intimidating..."

He kept his arm around her as she introduced everyone one by one. She finally arrived to Booth.

"And you've already seen Seeley Booth, my partner."

"Yes, good to see you again, Seeley."

"Don't call him that, he hates it," she explained.

"Oh, sorry. I know how you feel."

"I bet," Booth mocked him. Brennan yelled at Booth with her eyes, but both men laughed. They shook hands and started talking about his hotels.

She went back to Angela and lowered her voice.

"Do you like him?" she asked.

"I haven't even talked to him yet, Bren. But he looks nice."

***

This little soirée wasn't that bad, after all. As she looked around, they looked to be having fun. Hodgins and Sweets were picking on each other, Daisy kept laughing at anything anyone said. She really had that fake-happiness thing down, getting everyone cheery.

"I brought a deck of cards, maybe we could..." Sweets proposed.

"You are so cute," Daisy said. "We could play poker!"

"As long as it's regular poker..." Cam said. "My strip-poker days are over."

"I think you still have a few years to go," Booth flirted.

Brennan's head spun towards him. She smiled because everyone was laughing, but her stomach twisted. Objectively, she knew Cam was a gorgeous woman... She didn't know why it bothered her that Booth said it openly. She took Cal's hand.

"Maybe we could play_ Bullshit_," Cal suggested.

"Oh! That's a great idea!" Angela agreed.

"I'd rather play poker. I don't know bullshit," she interfered.

They all laughed out loud at the way those words sounded coming from her.

"It's really easy."

"And fun!"

"And it's a great way to learn to read people."

_Great. Now I know I'm gonna suck at it._

But she didn't object since everybody seemed on board. They all sat around the kitchen table, and Hodgins stole Sweets' cards so he could deal them himself. He dealt the whole deck. She got 5 cards. She observed the others. They were all hiding hand, so she made sure no one could see hers.

Booth, who was sitting across from her, was rearranging his cards. She remembered.

"Booth can't play!" she interjected. "He's degenerate!"

"What?" Cal tittered.

"He's got a gambling problem," she explained.

"It's fine, Bones. We're not playing for money, we're playing for fun. "

"As a psychology expert," Sweets began, "I would say..."

Booth shot him a look. Terrifying.

"... that he's fine."

The game was fairly simple. The object was to get rid of all your cards. The table used as a discard pile was filling up quickly. When your turn arrived, you had to discard one or more cards face down and call out their ranks, starting with Aces and going all the way up to Kings. When you didn't have the cards to follow ranking, you had to pretend you did. If no one said "Bullshit", you were ok. If someone called you out on your lie, you had to show the discarded cards and take the whole pile if you really had lied.

They had spent the last 2 hours on this Bullshit showdown. Sweets had finished first, followed respectively by Cam, Hodgins, Angela, Cal and Daisy. Only Booth and she remained.

"Can I propose a twist," Sweets interrupted them.

"Like a dance? No, thank you," Booth replied.

"Since there's only both of you left, and you each have half the deck, you will instantly know if the other is lying based solely on your hand. I propose to randomly take out 30 cards, to spice things up."

"Then we could see who knows whom best..." Angela said.

Brennan locked eyes with him.

"I'm in," she said.

Booth sneered.

Hodgins prepared the smaller deck and distributed 11 cards to each of them.

Half an hour later, they were still at it.

"This is fascinating..." Sweets whispered in Daisy's ear.

"Three nines," Booth said. Now he only had four cards left.

They were still staring at each other, as if they were alone.

"One ten," Brenna called, putting the card on the pile.

Booth's eyes flickered.

"Bullshit," he said, shaking his head.

Angela turned the card over and exposed its real number: a Jack.

"Wow," Hodgins really was amazed.

"We could stop, you know," Cam said. "If we don't, it really could take all night..."

"I'm starting to believe that," Cal said.

"Do you wanna stop?" Booth asked her.

"If we call it even, then sure."

"We can't call it even, I'm clearly winning. I got 4 cards left!"

"You've had 4 cards 6 times already. Doesn't mean anything."

"Ok, game over," Cam decided. She took all their cards away.

"Hey!" they both cried out.

***

Brennan was making some more guacamole in the kitchen while everyone was exchanging stories in the living room. The music was so loud she knew her neighbors would complain in the morning. She didn't care. She was having a great time.

"Hey."

Booth came in with 3 empty glasses. He rinsed them out and put them away in the dishwasher. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller.

"You having a good time?" she asked.

"I am. You?"

She nodded.

"What do you think?"

"About?" he asked, knowing too well she meant about _him._

It killed him to say it, but he knew it really was important to her.

"You picked a good one this time," he murmured, serious.

A smile appeared on the corner of her lips.

"Thanks. I guess..."

Why was she feeling sad all of a sudden? She wanted Booth to approve, God knows why. But now that he officially had, she felt empty.

"Although..."

Of course he'd have something to add! She folded her arms in front of her and waited.

"... he doesn't like me at all."

She rolled her eyes.

"You're paranoid."

"No! I'm serious! As soon as you left his side to go into the kitchen, he called me _Seeley._"

"That doesn't mean anything."

But Booth wasn't done.

"He also kept asking about you and me."

_You and me._

"W... Why?"

"He wanted to know how long we had gone out for."

"Out where?"

"_Out _out. He asked how long we had dated."

"We never dated!" she objected.

"Yeah, I know that. But I don't think he believed me."

"But that's ridiculous." She finished mixing the avocado and the olive oil with a fork. "Why would he think you were my ex? He didn't see us fight. Not really... I..."

_Do I really have to explain it to her?_

"What did you say to make him think that?" she accused him.

"Nothing! It's not my fault we have chemistry."

_You. Did not. Just SAY that!!_

She turned to him, heart accelerating. Still holding the fork, she denied it, though her tone was uncertain.

"We do not have chemistry..."

_Bullshit._

Before he even took one step closer, she felt the butterflies. _Not those again!_

"We do."

Booth couldn't believe how close to her body he was. He had no idea he had the nerve to get this close.

"We don't..." her voice was faint.

"Really?" It sounded like a warm whisper.

Her lips parted and her eyes were scanning his face for a trace of smirking or for anything that could show her he was kidding.

He took the fork from her hand and, without breaking eye contact, put it on the counter.

"Everyone knows it, and Cal picked up on it. That's why he hates me."

She wasn't sure what he had just said, her brain wasn't recording anymore.

"You know I'm right."

"You two arguing again?" Angela's voice, so loud, made them fly apart. Brennan almost bumped into the fridge.

"The usual," Booth recovered first.

With one last look towards his partner, he went back to the living room.

Brennan was frozen in place, trying to calm down. She felt played with. And she was furious.

"You ok, sweetie?"

"Sure, why not."

She abandoned the guacamole and went back to her guests.

She didn't look at Booth until he left. Good thing he left early.

***

Booth locked his apartment door behind him. He was an idiot. He threw his jacket on the couch. Why the hell would he do something like this? He didn't pick it up when it fell to the floor. He had lost control. He walked straight to his bedroom. God knows what he would have done if Angela hadn't walked in. He opened the closet. She would never talk to him again.

He saw it. Or maybe she would, you never knew with her. It was exactly where he had left it after buying it, as he had tried to find the perfect occasion to give it to her. That occasion was never going to arise now. He took the medium sized box and headed to Parker's bedroom. Who said 7-year-old boys couldn't have their own TV?

-------------------

TBC... **Still with me??**

**NEXT UP: Probably involves a stake out and a huge storm that blocks traffic and forces people to sleep in ugly stinky oh-so-small motel rooms...**


	5. Avoid and Conquer

**A.N.**** SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG! I can't thank you enough for reading and reviewing my story! Over 60 reviews, I am THRILLED :) So here's a little gift for you all. And let's get to 100! Haha Oh, and I noticed some of you are worried about Cal, about cheating, about this triangle… Don't ok? Trust. ;)**

Chapter 5  
**AVOID AND CONQUER**

Angela was the last one to leave. Cal stayed to help her clean up a little.

"I like your friends," he said.

"I think they like you, too," she commented with a smile. Tying a knot in the green garbage bag, she went to put it by the front door.

"I'm not sure about your partner, though."

"How so?"

"Well…" Cal rounded up the empty beer bottles. "At one point, you went to the kitchen, and he called me _Callister_."

So all men were stupid that way!

"And he said you called him _Seeley,_ so you're even," she tried to joke. "Booth just likes to tease."

Was he teasing her in the kitchen? Was he serious? Of course he wasn't.

She dimmed the ceiling lights.

"He told me he liked you," she reassured him.

"He did?" He sounded really surprised.

"Yes. He told me I chose well."

Cal smiled and put his hands on her hips.

"Good."

He noticed she was biting her bottom lip.

"What?"

Brennan took a deep breath.

"He also said you thought he and I used to… uhm… be an item."

"For a minute there, yeah. You two look like you know each other so well."

"We might know each other, but we don't understand each other at all."

"Plus, you bicker a lot," he laughed.

"We work together all the time, of course we'll argue."

"You seem really close."

She heard in his voice that he was simply stating a fact, not passing judgment.

"We've been through a lot, that's all."

She was glad Cal hadn't mention anything about chemistry. So, Booth was wrong. Not everyone could see it. If _it_ even existed.

"I know it's important to you that I like him," he said, kissing her head.

"He's… He's an amazing person."

"_You_'re an amazing person…" he said, averting the subject.

"Are you spending the night?" she asked, unsure what she wanted his response to be.

"I can't. I have an early flight in the morning and my suitcase is not packed yet."

She felt relieved, which probably meant she still wasn't ready.

***

"How long do we have to say here?"

They had been stuck in this car for two hours in these stupid, uncomfortable car seats.

"As long as it takes," he replied.

"Couldn't we have taken the SUV?" she whined.

"So that everyone who sees it knows we're Feds?"

"We could have taken _my_ car, then."

"Sure, a luxurious convertible is so common in this creepy part of town."

She sighed. They had talked the case through and through. What else was there to do?

"What are we looking for exactly?" she asked for the 4th time.

"I told you. I'll know it when I see it."

"Great! An entire night waiting for a gut feeling. That's some plan."

Booth took a chocolate bar and threw it at her.

"Here."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat it anyway."

"Why?"

"So you'll stop complaining for a few seconds."

She shut up and threw him back the candy. Hard. But she couldn't hold her tongue for very long.

"Why am I here, Booth?"

_Good question._

"Because it's dark… and… because you can tell me if we have the right guy just by the way he walks or stands or things like that," he said before he found an even better reason. "And because you're always asking me to come along when I go for stake-outs."

"Yes, but it never took so long to catch a suspect before."

He didn't say anything, trying to concentrate on people passing by.

"I'm thirsty," she said.

"We don't have anything to drink."

She frowned, looking around.

"You brought all that junk food and nothing to drink?"

"When you drink, you pee."

"That's the way it goes, yes. What's the point?"

"The point is: we're stuck in a car, not in a bathroom."

Oh.

Amazingly, it turned out they were both more than able to pretend the moment in her kitchen never happened. Brennan honestly thought Booth had forgotten about it. He probably only had tried to test her, for fun, and hadn't even noticed it had shaken her up. Or so she hoped.

He burnt to cross every boundary and ask,

_Did he sleep over last night?_

He handed her the bag of gummy bears. She took it.

She fidgeted so much in her seat, that he almost grabbed her by the shoulders to make her stop. Because every time she moved, she exhaled or sighed or breathed. And his heart was already beating too fast.

She couldn't believe she had missed a date with Cal for this. Stake-outs were supposed to be fun.

"What's the longest stake-out you've ever been on?" she asked, curious.

"Two weeks," he replied.

"How's that possible?"

"We were taking shifts," he laughed. "But we were on surveillance duty for two weeks. It was my first year in the force."

"Did you at least catch the bad guy?"

"Nope."

Brennan's eyes caught a glimpse of two individuals hiding in an alley.

"Oh! Is that what we were waiting for?" she asked excitedly, pointing through her window.

Booth leaned over her to see properly. She was now painfully aware of her bust, dangerously close to his face.

"Nah," he concluded, sitting back on his side. "That's just some punk dealing crack."

"Shouldn't you arrest them?"

"We're not here for them."

"But they're engaged in an illicit activity. And it's in progress. Even _I_ know you have the right to take them in without a warrant."

"Bones, we can't arrest every criminal we see tonight. We would fill the jails of the surrounding counties before we even got to the suspect we're looking for."

"Then call for back up," she suggested.

"Let it go."

"But…"

"Let it go," he insisted.

After a few minutes of silence, she asked,

"Would you, at least, put some music on?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it's distracting."

"You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?"

He turned to her.

"And what am I doing?"

"Making me miserable," she blurted out, gazing out her window.

The radio started to play. She could make him do anything without even really trying.

"What are you doing?" she questioned him. "You're distracting us for all that wonderful silence!" And she turned the radio off.

"Jesus, woman! What do you want from me?" He was losing it.

She sighed, mad at herself. She had no idea what her problem was. She just knew she felt angry.

"I was supposed to be on a date tonight," she said.

_Great._

"Then why are you here?" he bluntly, exasperated.

"Because you asked me to be with you!" Her own feverish words made her stomach flip.

"You could have said no, you know? I didn't force you to be here."

She closed her eyes. _I know._

"I wanted to be here'" she finally admitted. Maybe that was the reason she was enraged. "I'm just not sure you want me to be here."

"I do want you." When her head spun in his direction, he realized he had not finished his sentence. "To be here. If I didn't want… your company, I wouldn't have asked you in the first place." _And I wouldn't have gotten in trouble with my boss trying to get you permission to be here._

They both wanted to say it, but Booth got the nerves first.

"We fight a lot more than we used to."

Calmer, and even a little ashamed, Brennan agreed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know why I find you so infuriating all the time."

"And I'm sorry I keep pushing your buttons when I know you're gonna push back."

Their eyes met and they smiled at each other. _Will we be ok? _To dissipate the awkwardness of this sweet moment, Booth had to make a joke.

"See? We don't need Sweets to talk things out. I'll try to behave," he promised.

"Don't try. Just do," she said, still smiling.

Booth laughed. "Did you just quote Yoda?"

_Oh! She knew that one!_

"Why would I quote a fictional character from _Star Trek_?"

"_Star Wars_", Booth corrected her.

"They're not the same thing?"

"Not even close."

"Well, they're both about stars, how different can they be?"

"Please, tell me you don't think _Dancing with the Stars _is a science fiction."

She didn't answer, completely lost.

He smiled broadly. _Unbelievable!_ His eyes delicately swept her face.

_What?_

_You're amazing._

"But Yoda is a very small weird looking creature, right?"

Booth laughed again. "Yes." He took his Jedi Master's voice and quoted him, "Go, I will. Good relations with the Wookiees, I have."

She tried not to laugh and examined his features.

_What?_

_You're amazing._

"One day soon, I will force you to watch all 6 movies with me on your gigantic TV."

"Six movies?" she repeated. "That's a long story!"

"Oh, yeah! And you have to start with the first one, which is in fact the fourth one, which came out 30 years before the fourth one, which is the real first one."

She didn't even bother to try to understand. He laughed at her confusion and ruined the fun by asking a question he didn't even want the answer to.

"Do you love him?"

_That was out of nowhere!_

"Yoda?"

"Cal."

She sank in her seat. She had forgotten all about him, so by Booth's rules, it probably meant she didn't. But she couldn't say she didn't love him. Because if she did, Booth would inevitably ask her why she was with him and it would turn into another dispute.

"I… How am I supposed to know?"

"You want me to explain the symptoms again?"

"You made those up," she stated. "There's no way you can stick to the same speech."

"Do you miss him right now?"

She didn't answer because he posed another question.

"Does your heart threaten to come out of your chest when he kisses you?"

Her eyes dropped to his lips.

"Do you feel the need to be closer to him when he holds you?"

She started played with her mother's ring, unable to tear her eyes of his face.

"Do you feel safe and happy when you realize he's there for you?"

_Who is he talking about?_

"Do you want to have his babies?"

Finally something she could laugh at! She snorted.

"_THAT_ doesn't qualify to fit your list."

"Of course it does!"

"It so doesn't! I wanted to have… I thought about having… with you. So the baby thing… I don't… It's not… You and me… You're not… So it doesn't mean anything."

Brennan was never at a loss for words. He loved it.

"That's very articulate. You impress me every day."

"Shut up."

"Oooh, the big words!"

She didn't want Cal's babies. She didn't even consider considering it for one second and she knew she never would. But Booth was starting to look cocky. She couldn't let him get away with making her look like an idiot.

"Maybe."

"What?" Booth almost choked.

"Maybe I would consider procreating with him."

But once she said the words, she couldn't stand by them at all. It sounded so wrong!

Booth came out of his two-second stupor. He brought his face close to hers and squinted.

"Bullshit," he called out, knowing he was reading her right.

"Ok, fine," she admitted. "Still doesn't mean anything," she said, going for the gummy bears.

***

She was refilling their second glass when her phone rang. She was still laughing at what Booth had just said when she picked up.

"Brennan."

"Hi, it's me."

_Oh._ She saw Booth frown, asking her without words who it was.

"Hi, Cal."

Both nodded and took his glass.

"We just got back from a 5 hour stake-out," she explained. "You should have seen Booth go after the suspect! It was really…"

"You're still at work?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to call you back a little later when you're home?" Cal asked.

She smiled an apology to Booth and walked outside her office, just far enough so Booth wouldn't hear.

"We still have some things to finish up, here. It might run late."

"Ok, then. We still on for Chicago this weekend?"

"Of course," she replied, waiting for some enthusiasm to kick in. "My flight will arrive at O'Hare around noon."

"I can't wait to spend every minute of those 48 hours with you."

_2,880 minutes. That's a lot a minutes._

"Yes. Cal, I have to go," she said.

"See you Friday."

She hung up. Cal was a great guy. Chicago was a great city. She would have a great weekend. She looked at Booth through the glass wall. He was stretching, leaning back in the chair, eyes closed. Yes. A long weekend away would do her some good.

***

She knew she shouldn't have stopped by work on her way to the airport, but she just needed to pick up her unfinished manuscript so she could do some editing on the plane. The minute she put her suitcase on the floor of her office…

"Dr. Brennan!"

"I can't stay. My plane leaves in two hours," she interrupted Cam.

"There's a situation."

"What kind of situation?"

"Bones! Finally! I've tried calling you 12 times already!"

She put her manuscript in her purse and replied,

"I turned it off. I'm leaving for three days, remember?"

"Leaving? Where?" Booth asked, surprised.

"I told you! I'm going to Chicago for the weekend."

"You never told me that."

Ok, she really didn't have time for this now. She picked up her suitcase and tried to get out of there. But Booth and Cam followed her fast pace.

"Dr. Brennan! You can't leave."

"I cleared it with you 10 days ago!" she said, turning around to face her.

"I know. I hadn't expected to…"

"Four girl scouts went to Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge…"

"They get over 100,000 visitors a year, Booth. Why is this relevant?"

"… and never came back," he finished.

"And four bodies have been found last night. They need you in Delaware right now."

She sighed. "If they know who they are, why would they need me to go there _right now_? Just ask them to send the bodies. They'll still be here when I get back on Monday."

She grabbed her bag again, and continued walking.

"Bones, come on! We go there, we investigate like we always do and we come back. It's a 2 and a half hour drive. We'll be back tonight, and you catch a plane first thing tomorrow."

She thought about it. She and Cal would still have 1,440 minutes…

She dropped the bag on the floor and headed to Angela's office. Walking away, she told Booth,

"Put my bag in the car, you're driving me to Dulles International as soon as we get back."

"Yes, boss!" he said, way too happy to object.

She spotted Angela on the computer.

"Ange, I'm leaving for…"

"Oh, sweetie! Have a great trip. Have loads of sex for me, ok?"

"Wh… what?!" Brennan uttered.

"Since I am not getting any, I live vicariously through you. You have to work that man until he begs you to stop."

"I'm not gonna sleep with Booth! He wo… I..."

"Who said anything about Booth?"

"We're going to Delaware for a case."

"Oh. I thought you were leaving for Chicago to meet Cal."

"I was… still am. Could you contact the airport and have them change my flight to tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Thanks." Before she left, she added, "Oh! And could you let Cal know I won't arrive today?"

"No."

She never thought Angela would refuse to help her.

"Why not?"

"_You_ tell him. I hate giving bad news."

"It's not bad news. It's… work."

"Please, Bren, don't make me do this."

"Fine. I'll see you later!"

"Have fun!"

She went out the door and turned her cell phone on. Having a boyfriend was tiring, always having to justify your whereabouts. She hoped he wouldn't make a scene.

***

Well, Cal hadn't made a scene. Brennan hadn't even picked up on the fact that he sounded disappointed. She knew he would understand, being a successful businessman, how work could force you to change your plans at a moment's notice.

It was raining, pouring, to be exact, so the drive to Kent County was dreary.

"Feels like we've been driving forever and a day," Booth said.

"You can't add a day to forever. Forever is infinite, there's nothing longer than that."

"Exactly," he concluded. "So! Chicago, huh? Great lake. Great wind. Great… sports."

"Yep."

"… You're going with…"

"Yep."

"That's nice."

_Are we there, yet?_

***

She had examined the bodies, asserted their identities and declared the girls had been murdered. The forensics team had collected all the evidence they could, Booth and she had interviewed everyone on staff, none of which turned out to be suspects. It was almost 7 pm, and they were walking back to the car. The remains and all the recovered evidence was being shipped to the Jeffersonian so that her colleagues could solve the case while she would be enjoying Cal in Chicago. She would leave her cell phone on, though, just in case she turned out to be indispensable. She hadn't felt indispensable in months.

_Block all negative thoughts,_ Angela would say. _Focus on the good._ The good, yeah, she could do that. The thunder had just started, she had just spent hours probing the disgusting, even to her, remains of four little girls, the heavy rain had probably washed all trace evidence, she was soaking wet, freezing and famished, and Booth wouldn't let her drive. Everything was perfect, really.

Corpses rarely affected her. At least she was usually able to compartmentalize enough so that people didn't see it affected her. But this was… She needed a sanitizingly hot shower.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here," Booth said, as they both got out of the rain and into the car. "I had no idea it would be that… gruesome. I should have let you go to Chicago."

"It's fine. It's my job."

He could see she was still thinking about it. But she clearly didn't want to think about it.

"Could we grab some dinner before driving home?" she asked.

Of course she would still have an appetite.

"Fancy or greasy?" he asked.

"What do you think?" She knew he knew. They were so predictable.

"I spotted a little diner like ours just outside of Dover."

"Sounds good."

***

They had barely finished their food when the waitress, an imposing woman who seemed to be in charge, yelled,

"We're closing early!"

Booth turned to check out the window.

"There's a biblical deluge out there, and she's throwing us out?!" He couldn't believe it.

" The storm's getting worse and they just announced both sides of the 301 was closed to traffic," a man shouted so that everyone could hear.

Brennan and Booth exchanged a look. What were they gonna do?

"You wanna try to find another route to go back to DC?"

She looked out the window. A lightening stroke. She glimpse at the clock on the wall. 7 h 48.

"If I want to make my flight in the morning, we probably should…"

The lights went out.

_Great._

Some of the customers yelped. The only lights they could see were the red exit sign and the occasional flash of lightening.

"Guess you better call Callister," Booth said. "Looks like we're stuck in this town for the night."

She sighed, dreading that phone call. No service. _Oh, well._

"Are you guys looking for a motel?" a man asked in the dark.

"Do you know an establishment that is close by?" Brennan inquired.

"The only one for miles around is the Downside Palace Motel. It's a 15 minute drive."

"Not sure I like the name…" Booth noted.

"But you should hurry. It's pretty booked this time of year."

"It must not be that bad, then," Brennan pointed out.

"Great, let's go!"

***

"You sure it's in business?" Booth asked as he pulled in the small parking lot. "This place looks like it could be from a horror movie."

"There's a power outage, Booth. Of course it looks… dark."

He stopped the car. The headlights were probably making the scene look worse than it was. So what if the outside pool looked like it had been turned into a garden? At least they had a pool.

"No wonder they are booked this time of year," Booth mumbled. "There's what? Three rooms in this _palace_?"

"Stop whining and let's go," Brennan ordered.

They ran out of the car and reached the front desk. It was dark, but at least the emergency lights were on. A young man came out of nowhere.

"May I help you?"

Booth took out his wallet.

"Would you, by any chance, have a couple of rooms available?"

"I got one," he dryly replied.

"Ok… uhm… with two beds?"

"One. But it's a big one."

Booth sighed and looked at Brennan.

"Do you wanna go somewhere else?" he asked her.

"You can sleep on the floor, I don't mind," she said.

He laughed. "Oh! You don't mind, huh? With my back problems?"

She was drained. "Let's argue about that later, ok? Just take it."

The young clerk swiped Booth's credit card in the machine and made him fill out a form, then handed him the key. "Room 5. Enjoy," he said.

Once outside, they ran to door number 5. Booth's hands were shaking from the cold and he struggled with the lock as the rain kept falling. Finally, the door opened.

"Well!" Booth exclaimed, trying to make out the room through the darkness. "It doesn't look that bad," he said.

"Yeah," Brennan agreed. "Aside from that faint mold smell… it's not bad."

Booth sniffed the air. She was right. He hadn't noticed the smell. _Whatever. _At least, they didn't have to sleep in the car.

They were busy shaking off the water from their hair and sticky clothes when the lights came back on.

"See? It's not that bad," he tried to convince them both.

But it really was. The carpet was stained, the window had no curtains, they had a lovely view on the deserted highway… And the bed. The bed.

"I should have known," Booth let out. "When a young guy tells you he's got a big bed, he means a double bed."

They both stood there, staring at it.

"I think this is a Queen sized mattress," she corrected him.

"Made for one small queen."

They didn't move, like stuck in front of all the unthinkable possibilities. Brennan shifted on her feet, and their hands scarcely brushed. The lights went out again.

--------------------------------

TBC

**As I said, don't worry about Cal, he'll be gone soon. Don't worry about the tension, it's back full blast in the next chapter which will pick up right where I left this one. STAY WITH ME!!!**


	6. Discomfort Inn

**A.N.**** Wow! Just when I'm thinking, "Yeah… maybe it's not as good as I planned", you guys get me some feedback that keeps me going. Thanks! Here's, as promised, a little tension to hold on to.**

**A.N.2 Thanks to "Anne Nonymous" who'll recognize the idea she unintentionally- or not- gave me. Thanks to her, I had to postpone the update until 3 am. *sigh* :)  
And thanks to Laura Dugan who pointed out a mistake I tried to correct without making it too obvious... ;)**

Chapter 6  
**Discomfort Inn**

The lights flickered on again. They stayed immobile for a minute, just waiting to see if the electricity would hold.

"Ok!" Booth said, taking his first good look around. _TV, small round table, chair, phone, lamp…_

"I've stayed in way worse conditions," she said. "I'll be fine. I'm just worried about you."

"Me?"

"You're a little… soft."

He snickered. "What?!"

"Yes. This is out of your comfort zone."

She was so right. This place gave him the creeps.

"I'm fine," he said.

"I bet you hate camping," she continued.

He did. With all his heart.

Brennan shivered. She had to warm up or else she would get sick. And she hated being sick more than anything.

"I'm gonna take a bath," she told him.

"Funny. I always picture you in the shower." He hadn't meant for it to sound so dirty. "Not that I think about… You know…" How could he rephrase that? "I thought you were more of a shower person." Yes, that sounded better. Right? _God! Help me._

She smirked at his discomfort. "Could you grab my suitcase in the car?"

He peered out the window. The storm didn't look nearly over. He didn't want to, but one look at her, and he was running outside.

When he came back, she was putting her hair up in a bun, exposing her neck. He dropped the bags on the bed. He always had an emergency bag of his own ready in the trunk containing the basics.

She rummaged through her luggage and froze. There was no way. She looked at him. He was taking inventory of his stuff: 2 T-shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 1 sweatshirt…

"Could I… borrow one of your shirts?" she asked.

His head spun up, then down at her bag.

"Weren't you supposed to spend two days in Chicago?"

"Yes."

"And you forgot to pack sleepwear?"

_Maybe she sleeps naked._

She pinched her lips together.

"I just thought you'd be more comfortable if I slept in one of your shirts."

In what universe would that make him more comfortable? A gorgeous woman in _his_ shirt was enough to drive him over the edge in a few seconds. There was nothing sexier than a…

She pulled something out of her bag. Something pink… and a little transparent… something… She held it up and it unfolded. That was not sleepwear. That was sexwear. That was… He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to control his body.

Still gazing at the small piece of clothing she was showing off, he blindly took one of his T-shirts and threw it at her. She caught it, put back her négligé in the bag, zipped it shut and locked herself in the bathroom.

"Thanks!" she shouted through the door.

_No problem._

***

It was his turn to come out of the bathroom. She was sitting on the chair by the window, brushing her hair. His shirt was too big for her, obviously, but it was still indecently short, barely covering her thighs. He tried not to stare, he really did.

Her cell phone rang. He went back to the bathroom to hang their wet clothes on the shower curtain rod and to give her some privacy.

The caller ID was unambiguous. It was Cal. She quickly glanced over at Booth. He wasn't looking, so she turned it off. When he came back and asked her who it was, she lied.

"It was just a text message from Angela."

Booth knew. That was not her text messaging ringtone. Why would she lie? He decided to pretend he believed her.

It wasn't even 9 pm, but they were both exhausted. He pulled up the comforter and the sheets and slid into bed.

Brennan got up.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep. So that we can leave early tomorrow."

"You shouldn't…"

He caught her off. "Please! Don't make me sleep on the floor!"

She shook her head.

"I wasn't going to ask you to sleep on the floor. I was going to say that you shouldn't use the comforter."

Booth frowned.

"But it's comfortable. That's the only good thing about this room."

He watched her dig through her purse and take out a handheld black light. He burst out in laughter.

"What else have you got in that bag, Mary Poppins?"

She checked. "A flash light, my wallet, my keys, my new manuscript, gum, sunglasses…"

Booth sat up straight. "Oh! You brought your new book? Can…"

"No, you can't read it."

_Fine._

She hit the switch on the wall and, once again, the room was pitch-dark.

Booth got nervous. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you why you shouldn't use that comforter."

She flicked on the black light and moved it over the bed. There were glowing spots here and there… mostly everywhere. He thought he knew what that meant, but he verified, just in case.

"Are those…"

"Bodily fluids of all kinds, yes. Could be urine, semen, sweat…"

"Oh, my God!" he yelped, jumping out of bed, nearly knocking her over. She regained her balance by holding onto his shoulders.

She laughed.

"Most motels wash the sheets, they just don't bother with the comforter," she explained.

"_Most_ motels wash the sheets? You mean…"

"You want me to check the sheets, too?"

"No!" Maybe they should. But then, he would never be able to sleep. He shuddered in disgust. He felt dirty. Like there were things crawling on him. "Thanks, Bones. I really needed to know that."

She put the device back in her purse and turned the lights back on. Booth was standing beside the bed, staring at it, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

She sighed and took the comforter off the bed.

"Don't touch it!" he said.

"You still want to sleep under it?"

"Where are you going to put it? You should throw it out the window. Though they're probably painted shut."

"I'm just going to put it in the bathtub."

"What?! No! Our clothes are hanging in there!"

"The fluids are not gonna jump from one fabric to another, Booth."

He cringed. Well, at least that had gotten his mind off of her beautiful legs. He caught his mind trying to figure out what underwear she was wearing and jumped back into bed.

She came back, feeling naked all of a sudden. She pulled on the hem of the shirt to make it longer. Like that was going to work. She hit the switch on the wall. The bedside lamp Booth had turned on was providing enough luminosity for her to reach the bed without bumping into anything. Careful not to touch him, she went to her side of the mattress. Her foot brushed his bare leg. He had taken off his jeans.

"Sorry," she whispered, trying to scoot away from him.

Laying on his back, he stared at the ceiling. It wasn't the first time they shared a bed. They had in Vegas and at the circus, in that trailer. He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep.

Brennan could feel the heat emanating from his body. She wondered why her heart was beating so fast. Then, she realized the answer couldn't be simpler. She hadn't had sex in a while. All that tension she was feeling would go away as soon as she would have intercourse with her boyfriend. _Then why don't you feel that way around Cal?_ her mind inquired. Booth turned the light off and she closed her eyes. That was going to be a long night.

That clap of thunder was so loud and near, it startled her.

"Are you scared?" Booth teased.

She didn't reply. He turned on his side.

"Bones?"

"Of course I'm not scared. It's a natural meteorological phenomenon."

Dr. Temperance Brennan, afraid of the thunder? Nah…

"Of course…" he repeated. With every ounce of his being, he resisted the urge to hold her.

"Who do you think killed those four little girls?" she changed the subject.

Everyone knows murder stories are way less scary than thunderstorms…

"I really don't know," he said. "I'm meeting with the parents tomorrow."

"I'd like to go with you," she offered.

"What about Chicago?"

"It can wait."

Booth's smile went unnoticed in the night.

***

Booth's eyes flew open. _What was that?_

_"... Mmm!"_

_You're kidding me!_

_"... Mmm! Oh!"_

That distinct, but faint, bashing on the wall was clearly coming from the next room.

_"... Oh! God! Yes!"_

That was a loud one. Booth tried to bury is head under his pillow.

Brennan woke up, wondering if that moaning was from her dream or…

_"... Ah! Brian… Mmm."_

No. Those were from a real person.

The thuds in the wall became more and more persistent.

Now, that was a little awkward. She hoped Booth was still fast asleep. She dared to look at him… His head was under his pillow. She retained a chuckle and lifted it.

"Booth?" she whispered. "Are you ok?"

"Super," he grumbled.

He could feel the bed shaking slightly from her giggle fit.

"This is not funny…" he said. "We need to sleep!"

"Aw, come on," she murmured, pushing him a little.

_"... Oh! Come ! Come for me baby!"_

"Aw, man!" Booth pushed both sides of the pillow onto his ears. Brennan couldn't hold her laughs any longer.

The moaning intensified again, they couldn't make out words anymore.

Brennan stopped laughing. She started to get uncomfortable, which was unusual. And she couldn't fall back asleep. She poked Booth again.

"What?" he muffled.

"Do you wanna play cards?"

"Do you have cards?" he asked, still hiding.

She thought about it.

"No. But maybe they have some at the front desk."

"Do you really…"

She pulled on his pillow.

"I can't hear what you're saying."

He turned onto his back.

"Do you really wanna go out in the rain to find cards?"

"I thought _you_ would."

"Sure. I'd love to."

She smiled, but not for long. Booth took advantage of her distraction to take his pillow back. And he disappeared under it.

The cries of pleasure had stopped. She laid back down.

"Booth?" she whispered.

"What?" He was already half asleep.

"I have a question."

"What?"

She lowered her voice even more, trying to conceal the fact that she was giggling. "Do you always hide your face like this during sex?"

He slammed his pillow in her face and turned on his side. Annoyed, he still smiled, because he heard her laugh.

***

They had managed to get some sleep. In fact, Brennan hadn't slept that well in months. The sun was finally shining through the window. She couldn't get up. She was too comfortable. Slowly, careful not to wake him up, she turned her head to him.

But his eyes were open. He was staring at the ceiling when he sensed her eyes on him. He turned to her.

"Good morning," he whispered. His deep morning voice still croaky.

His eyes were slightly smaller than usual, signifying he had just woken up.

"Good morning," she whispered back.

They stayed like this, gazing at one another, in a complete, contented silence for only a few seconds. Brennan's eyes glimmered onto his full lips. She felt inwardly pulled towards him. Suddenly, the intimacy of the moment scared her. She quickly got up. Just in time.

"We should get going. We have 4 sets of parents to see today."

Booth, still in bed, stretched and moaned.

"Give me a sec," he said.

She waited. She had almost kissed him. And waited. Why would she even think about kissing him? She looked at him. Stared.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?"

He couldn't get up just yet. Not while she was looking anyway.

Her foot tapped on the carpet.

"Relax!" he said. That was intended for her. And for him. Mostly for him.

She didn't want to relax. She wanted to get out of there. As fast as possible. Booth was right. That bed was small.

Tired of waiting, she pulled the sheets off of him. Booth's heart stopped. He instinctively went to cover up his groin, but… Why bother? She had seen it.

Brennan's mouth went dry. She forgot to breathe. She tried to tear her eyes away from his boxers. From the tent in the fabric. She breathed in when she really wanted to breathe out, and a faint sound escaped her throat. Something that sounded like "Oh."

He implored his God to make her look away. The more she was staring at it, mouth slightly open, the harder he got. He felt like crying. He had never been more embarrassed in his entire life. And he had been embarrassed a lot.

Brennan's mind went blank. Time accelerated. Or slowed down, she wasn't sure. She couldn't think. All she could do was feel. And boy, was she feeling! She ignored the weakening of her legs, trying to stop her own arousal. She felt nervous, feverish even. It only lasted a second, but against her will, her eyes examined his whole body. He was gorgeous, laying there, half naked, with his muscular arms and torso, and that erection…

She finally shut her eyes and turned around. Knowing Booth, he was probably mortified. Humiliated. He probably wanted to hide.

Booth wanted to die. But he locked himself in the bathroom, splashed his face with cold water, resisted the urge to drown himself in the sink, and got dressed.

Brennan's eyes were still closed. But that image was probably going to stay a while. At last, she regained some composure. And went all clinical on him, which only made the matter worse.

He heard her voice through the walls.

"Nocturnal penile tumescence is a healthy and normal physiological response that most men experience."

_Stop it. Sush!_

"Morning erections are usually the tail end of a series of night time erections. On average, a healthy male will have three to five erections in a full night of sleep..."

His knuckles turned white, he was squeezing his shirt, burying his face in it. _If she says 'erection' one more time, I _will_ kill her._

"… with each erection lasting between 25 to 35 minutes." She was babbling.

_Shut up!!!_ Maybe he could tell her he only wanted to pee…

"It's a common myth that morning erections are caused by a full bladder. This is untrue."

_Or not._

"It's just the body's way of making sure everything is functional."

_And by what I've seen, you look very functional._

He counted to three. Then to five. Then to ten, and came out of the bathroom. She was dressed and her suitcase was by the door. She tied up her hair in a pony tail. She was ready to go.

"Thanks for the health class lecture," he mumbled.

_No problem._

"Ready to go?" she asked, covering up her flushed cheeks by facing the door.

"Yup."

It was becoming impossible for them to pretend nothing was going on. The pile of ignored facts, of imaginary moments was getting stacked. But they could manage one more, right?

They waited at the front desk. The same young man as the previous night appeared.

"You two enjoyed your stay?"

"Sure," Booth responded.

"You might wanna wash the comforter, though," Brennan chimed in.

"Oooh! That was you two! So you _really_ enjoyed your stay," the boy winked.

Booth winced. "No! It wasn't… Not us… it was.. never mind. I just need a receipt."

"Yes, I need your credit card."

Booth took his wallet out of his pocket. "You took it yesterday, why would you need it again?"

"Because when I swiped it last night, the power was out, so it didn't work."

Booth snorted. "You don't say!" He handed him the card.

The employee swiped the card again, punched an amount, and waited for the receipt to print.

"Here you go," he said, handing Booth the paper. "I just need your signature."

Booth took the pen and…

"$174? Are you serious?!"

Brennan approached the counter and checked the amount. _Wow._

"Yes, but that includes all the amenities."

"Like what? Access to clean water?"

Booth was clearly taking his frustration out on him.

"Cable TV, wireless Internet, continental breakfast…"

"We didn't get any breakfast," Brennan pointed out.

"It's right there, on the table," he replied. The partners turned around to see a basket of muffins.

"_That's_ your continental breakfast? What continent are you from?"

Brennan put her hand on his arm. "Booth, it's ok. Leave the poor boy alone…"

"_Poor?_ He's not poor! He's taking all my money. There goes my budget for the week."

Brennan tried to settle things. She asked the man behind the counter, "Do you have federal employees discount?"

The boy, who was starting to look indimidated in front of Booth, seemed way more confident in front of a woman.

"I really think you're worth at least $174. I wouldn't mind spending that on you."

Her eyes narrowed a little.

"That's preposterous."

Booth pulled her behind by the shoulders.

"Ok, Webster, come on. Let's go."

He grabbed the receipt and led her out the door.

***

They stopped at a gas station, and while Booth got out of the vehicle to fill up the tank, she turned on her cell. Five messages.

"Great," she mumbled.

The first two were from Angela, asking her for updates. The three others were from Cal. She didn't even bother listening to them all. She called him back.

"Hello?" he quickly answered.

"Hi, it's me, Temperance."

"Finally!" he laughed. "I was getting worried. Is everything ok?"

"Yes, we're fine. We got stuck in this small town because of the rain, but we're…" _Enough with the we! _"I'm on my way back now."

"I'm sorry you couldn't make it."

"Yeah…"

"Hey, listen, I know you're probably busy, but I'll be in D.C. again on…"

She was staring at Booth, who was paying inside. When she realized what she was doing, she shut her eyes and massaged her forehead, sensing a massive headache was about to ruin her day.

"So I'll see you then?" he confirmed.

"Can't wait," she said. Part of her really meant it. The other side of her, though… She hadn't even listened to what he had just said. This was all Booth's fault. He was getting in the way of everything, seeping through every aspect of her life. She needed to get a grip and put a stop all that nonsense. She would lose her mind, otherwise. And her mind was all she had, really.

***

"The wildlife refuge is 15,978 acres, can't we narrow it down, a little?" Cam asked Hodgins.

"Well… There was no trace of them ever being in contact with the tidal salt marsh, but other than that…"

"In other words, we got nada," Booth summed up. "Not even a definite crime scene."

"I'm sorry."

Booth massaged his temples.

"This is killing me!" he almost yelled.

Brennan stared at her feet. She really hated seeing him that upset. That case was leading them nowhere. They had worked non-stop for a week now. Seven days straight and not even one suspect. How could someone kill four little girls and leave _no_ clue?

"I'll re-examine the bones. Again." Brennan offered.

"Not today," Cam ordered. "We're all gonna… go home. Take a breath."

"We can't go home," Brennan objected. "We have to…"

"Dr. Brennan, we're all fed up going in circles. We need a break, all of us. You two, especially," she said, waving a finger side to side from Booth to Brennan. "We'll start from the beginning tomorrow. We're working weekends; we can take a Friday afternoon off."

Brennan didn't argue. She was way too tired to talk back. Start from the beginning. Right. They never got _past _the beginning.

"Before you go," Cam added, aiming her words at the partners. "Sweets told me he wanted to see you about the profile he's making."

***

"Take a seat," the young doctor told them. They sat down on the usual couch and watched him close the door. Then lock it.

They both exchanged a puzzled look. Sweets didn't lock the door, usually. They watched him grab a plastic basket and plant himself in front of them.

"Trick or treat?" Booth kidded.

"Cell phones," Sweets simply said.

"What?"

"Turn off your cell phones and put them in the basket."

"What f…"

"Just do it," he said, exasperated.

They both obeyed unwillingly, way too curious to protest any more. Sweets then shut the blinds and slowly walked behind his desk.

"What's going on?" Brennan asked Booth, as if he would know.

Booth shrugged. "He's finally gone mental."

"I don't want anything distracting you both from what I'm about to discuss with you."

"I'm scared," Booth whispered in her ear.

Silence.

He watched Booth. Then Brennan. Then, he finally spoke up.

"What are your plans for tonight?"

Booth laughed and slapped his thigh. Brennan just smiled, intrigued.

"All this mystery just to ask us out? Sweets, we're only human. No need to be star struck!"

"We would love to go out with you. Right Booth?"

"Of course!"

But Sweets wasn't biting this time. He continued talking.

"As of right now, and until tomorrow, you two are not allowed to talk about work. At all."

They both frowned.

"What's this? A new security protocol?" Brennan asked.

"This is an exercise," he clarified.

Booth sighed.

"Why do we have to continue therapy?" Booth started.

"Your book is done," Brennan finished.

Sweets leaned back in his chair and put his hands together.

"These past couple of months, I've sensed friction between the two of you."

"Like _that's _new…" Booth whispered. Brennan nodded in agreement.

"It seems it has intensified."

They both looked at the carpet at the same time, and Sweets took it has an acknowledgment. He went on.

"The frequency of your bickering has majorly increased. It leaves me no other choice than to address the problem because it's starting to affect your work."

"What?" Brennan interjected, surprised. "That's not true!"

"It's a little true," Booth argued.

She turned to him.

"Things can't be a _little_ true. They're either true or they're not."

"Bones, you have to admit we fight more than usual. We've been on this case for a week and we…"

"You think the case is stagnating because of us?"

"No! I'm just saying…"

"Stop." Sweets tone was firm. "You can't talk about work, remember?" He grinned to lift the mood. "Huh?"

"If our work is affected, why can't we talk about work? It makes no sense."

"I agree. It's a useless experiment."

"It's not an experiment," he corrected her. He joined his hands together and added, "Trust me, would you?"

Brennan nudged Booth.

"He sounded like Yoda, right?"

"Totally! Kind of looks like him, too."

Sweets rolled his eyes at that clear display of bonding against adversity.

"You want us to trust you?" she asked the psychologist. "Then give us the book you wrote about us."

Booth smiled, impressed with her.

"Yeah! Show us the book."

Sweets turned red. "I'm reworking on it. It's not completely finished."

"We don't care."

"We wanna see it."

"Nah… I'm… No. Guys, this is important! For you both and for everyone working with you."

They felt bad. A little bit. Just slightly.

"Did someone complain about us?" Brennan asked.

"Not directly, no."

Ok. Maybe they did have a problem. Maybe. But how was forbidding them to talk about work for half a day going to help? They had plenty of other things they could talk about. They talked all the time! They could talk about Parker, they could talk about… Uhm… …

_Crap._

--------------------------------

TBC

**Quote me, yell at me, anything! But please press that review button! :) Yes I'm pathetic and begging. So what? You just got a new chapter and, right now, I'm typing a new one. I have a right to beg.**


	7. It's All about the Talk

**A.N.**** You did it, guys! You sent me over 100 reviews! AHHH!! Ok, here's chapter 7. Hope this one lives up to your standards!**

Chapter 7  
**It's All about Talk**

"Ok, well… See you tomorrow!" Brennan said, pressing the elevator button.

"What do you mean? I thought we had to... not talk about work."

"And the best way to do so is by not talking at all."

"But Sweets said…"

"We never agree with Sweets."

He kept quiet, so she turned to him.

"You're taking his side?" she asked, surprised.

"No! Never. I'm just…"

They avoided each other's eyes. Until Booth spoke again.

"Maybe we should try. We could go to my place and… hang out."

He sounded like a 14 year-old.

"Fine," she abdicated.

The elevator door opened, when it hit her.

"Wait! We can't go yet."

"Did you forget something?"

"No. I'm…" She had to find an excuse to buy some time. "… hungry."

"I have food in my fridge, you know?"

"Yes, I know. But…"

What was up with her?

"We'll eat some snacks, then I'll cook you dinner. Whatever you want."

He really wanted her to accept.

"Come on! You had lunch not even two hours ago. You can't be _that_ hungry!"

2 hours?

"What time is it?"

Booth checked his watch.

"It's almost 3 h 30."

Oh! They had told her everything would be in place in the early afternoon. _They should be done, right?_

"Ok, then." And she followed him.

***

They turned the corner in the hall and saw two guys coming out of Booth's apartment, closing the door. Booth immediately reached for his gun. Brennan stopped him.

"Booth, no! They were only there for a delivery." The two men passed them on their way out, unaware of who they even were.

"In _my_ apartment? You know about this?"

"I gave them the key…" she admitted.

"You _what?_ Bones!"

"I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "But they are professionals. They do that all the time."

"That's not the point," he said, opening the door. "I'm a federal agent! You don't let just anybody in my house when I'm not there!"

She followed him, apologizing again, while he went on and on about the dangers of deliverymen and something about how she should never…

But then he saw it. Hanging on the wall. It was taking the whole wall. He dropped his keys on the floor. Brennan picked them up and put them on a table next to the one left behind by the movers.

"Do you forgive me, now?" she asked him.

He was in awe, mouth open, blinking every few seconds.

"That's… mine?"

"Yes. That's why I had it delivered here."

"But that's worth at least $5,000. I know you're rich, but I can't accept this. Though I might, because really, really want to."

"Don't worry about that. You were right, I was never using it. I know you will."

He turned to her.

"You mean… that's the one Cal gave you?"

She didn't understand why it was important, but answered anyway.

"Yes."

"Isn't he gonna be furious you gave it away?"

"He gave it to me. Why should he care what I do with it? Besides, Cal doesn't get mad."

Booth looked at the giant flat screen again.

"So… This TV, right here, is here to stay? You're never, ever, ever gonna take it back?"

She smiled at his childish tone.

"All yours."

He took her by surprise and hugged her tightly. She was about to hug him back when he spun around, all excited.

"Thank you, Bones! Parker is gonna be thrilled! Wow! His cartoons are gonna be life-size!"

Her hands on her hips, she said, "You mean, _your_ cartoons are gonna be life-size."

"Oh yeah, baby! I can't believe it. Your birthday is coming up and you're getting me a gift. Does it work?" he asked, excitedly. He took the remote and turned it on.

"I hope so. I paid for a full installation, so, your DVD and your dated VHS players should both work with it."

It took a second for the image to take over the black screen. He watched the screen while she watched him. She loved making him happy.

***

Sweets was looking for them in the diner. It was really crowded for a Friday afternoon. He finally spotted Angela waving at him. He made it was to the table.

"So! Did you talk to them?" Cam asked.

The psychologist sat down.

"Yes. I firmly advised them to get their act together."

Hodgins almost spit out his soda.

"You _firmly _advised?"

"I strong…ish-ly recommended they should… talk."

Angela put her two cents in.

"You didn't _make_ them talk? I thought that was the point of therapy."

"You know as well as I do that if I had forced them to talk, they would have turned all this into a big joke. I've seen it too many times. When confronted to a higher authority…"

"_You'_re the higher authority?" Hodgins let out. After a sigh, Sweets decided to ignore him.

"… they shut everyone out and it seems like they get on the same page, but it doesn't get them anywhere. They have to be alone to break through."

Angela intervened. "But Brennan doesn't like to talk."

"And Booth is even worse," Cam added.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Sweets asked. "Maybe it will never happen."

"Oh! It _will_ happen." Hodgins disagreed.

"I just wish she'd realize she's using Cal to get Booth jealous," Angela exhaled loudly.

"Maybe she really likes the guy," Sweets proposed.

Cam, Hodgins and Angela turned to him. He felt little. And a little terrified.

"Or!" he tried to recover. "Maybe she's using him to prove something."

He was safe. They all stopped looking at him.

Angela took Hodgins' drink.

"But what she's doing is pointless. Callister is never around. And she never talks about him. I failed her. I should have taught her better than this."

"_Callister," _Hodgins mocked. "At least that one didn't try to kill her."

"Or killed own brother."

"She should have stuck with Sully. That one got Booth sweating."

The waitress gave them a mean look, probably because they were too loud. They laughed even louder.

***

"Here." Booth handed her the remote, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. "I'm gonna get us some beer. Look through my video collection, you should find a copy of the first Star Wars."

"You really want to watch those movies right now?"

"Not all of them!" he said. "Just one. Then I'll make dinner."

He saw on her face that she wasn't too sure she wanted to watch it.

"Or we can sit and _talk._"

"Star Wars it is!"

She looked for his collection. She hated going through his stuff. She felt like she was intruding. But she found it quickly. She took the tape, slid it into the VHS player and pressed play.

The movie began right away. No previews or old fashioned opening credits. The sound really wasn't great. She tilted her head.

"I thought you said _Star Wars_ was a science-fiction!" she shouted so he would hear.

"It is!"

"Does it start with a mascot running around?"

"Chewbacca is not a mascot. Maybe I forgot to rewind the tape the last time I…"

Booth saw what was on the TV. And it wasn't _Star Wars_. He set the beers on the coffee table and tried to turn it off. But she was in the way.

"Bones, that's not… Turn it off."

"Hey! Is that… Is that _you?"_

He sighed.

"Please turn it off."

"It _is_ you! You can't be more than 17! What is that movie?"

He finally succeeded in pressing pause directly onto the player.

"That's not _Star Wars_. You took the wrong tape."

"But it's written on the box that this is all the _Star Wars_ movies…"

"Gimme that…" He took the empty case. And read the label. "It says _All Star Championship. _Can't you read?" he laughed and found the real movie. He went to put it in.

"No! Booth! I wanted to watch that other thing!"

"It's a basketball game. You wouldn't like it."

She looked so disappointed he felt a pinch in his chest.

"Please," she almost begged. "Then we can tell Sweets we learned about each other, and he'll leave us alone."

_As if._

"Come on," she insisted. "I showed you my mother's tape."

She wasn't one to use the dead mom card. So it really was important to her.

"Don't mock me," he ordered and pressed play.

They sat on the sofa.

Younger Booth was running around, like a pro, shooting and scoring every time. After one particular basket, the camera zoomed on him. He smiled brightly, and waved at the camera.

Brennan put a hand over her mouth. She wasn't allowed to laugh.

"You can mock the hair," Booth said.

She looked at him. "You were good," she stated.

"Told you."

"Thanks for letting me watch this," she said, turning to the screen again.

He was embarrassed. Back then, at 16, he was a tall, scrawny kid, with way too much confidence for his own good.

"Are you sure you want to watch all the game? We lost that one," he said.

"Shhh."

_Guess she does._

***

"First thing tomorrow, I gotta stop by the Bureau to get that list of…"

"No work talk, remember?" she warned him, pointing the big knife in his direction.

"Right. Pass me the chicken?"

She handed him the grilled poultry, on which he added the homemade bruschetta mix.

She sprinkled it with fresh parmesan and he put it in the oven for another 5 minutes.

"We make a great team," she said.

"That's what they say." They smiled and clinked their beer bottles together.

They didn't really talk until the oven timer went off. The silence was not uncomfortable, just mostly annoying. So Brennan decided to ask him.

"Why don't you ever introduce me to your girlfriends?"

Booth, who had just taken his first bite of the delicious bruschetta chicken skillet, tried not to choke.

_Come again?_

"I… What are you talking about?" _He remembered just in time that it was not true. _"You've met Tessa."

"Right… But that was like three years ago and I met her because I dropped by your place unannounced. Otherwise, I wouldn't have even known she existed."

"… There's no particular reason. I just don't like to mix my private life with my work life."

"So… you're saying that I'm only work related? That I have no business in your personal life?"

"No! Of course not! We're here together and we don't talk about work," he pointed out.

"Because Sweets asked us not to."

The truth was… he hadn't dated anyone worth introducing her to. It was never serious enough. He couldn't let her feel like she was just a colleague to him, so he tried to explain.

"The truth is…" He put down his fork. "Women are competitive. And… they hate competition."

"Competitive people love competition."

"Yes. Normally. But women are complicated."

"I'm not complicated!" she interjected.

"Oh! You are. More than you think. But that's not the point."

She thought she understood.

"Is it because I have a superior intelligence and that I would make them uncomfortable?"

"That's probably part of it, yes. You know. And you're… I mean, you're this…" _Just say it already! _"You're this incredibly beautiful woman I work with every day. Most women wouldn't really like that."

He saw it. She blushed. He squirmed on his chair a little.

"So… you've had girlfriends after Tess," she recapitulated.

"Of course! I'm not a monk!"

She watched him dig through his food. She squinted. _Did he just lie?_ Guess she would never know.

***

It was almost 8 pm. She had just sat on one of the stools when something brightly colorful on the fridge caught her eyes.

"Hey, what's this?" she asked, walking up to it.

Evidently, it was a drawing. Two people, one wearing a tie and a huge gun, the other wearing what slightly resembled a dark blue lab coat, were standing hand in hand. They looked like they were floating, not really touching the ground, under the huge yellow sun.

Booth took the magnet off of it and handed it to her.

"It's us, can't you tell?"

"Us?"

"Yes…"

As she took the sheet, their fingers brushed. She looked up at him. She was surprised that his son would choose to include her. They looked eyes and Booth said,

"Parker made it at school."

She looked again at the two characters holding hands. They looked happy.

"He told me that it was us after we arrested a bad guy. He said that he tried to draw a skeleton, but that it didn't look real."

"He is aware that the proportions are way off, right? That if the sun was that close to Earth, life would be impossible?"

Booth took it back.

"It's a little boy's creative drawing, Bones, not a photograph for the National Geographic!"

"He's very talented," she rectified.

"Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me? I didn't compliment you."

He just smiled at her and handed her the art piece.

"He asked me to give it to you."

"To me?"

"Yes. He even signed his name on the back."

She turned the page over.

"To: Dr. Bones. From: Parker Booth," she read.

She felt her eyes starting to sting and her nose tickled lightly. She smiled to make the weird sensation go away.

"Thank him for me, ok?"

She carefully rolled the drawing and walked up to the coat hanger to put it in her pocket. The almost tears were gone now, so she returned to the kitchen to help with the dishes.

***

Walking up to her apartment door, fumbling with her keys to find the right one, she realized she was smiling to herself. Even though they had kind of been forced into this evening, she had had a great time. She even, for a while, had forgotten all about the fact that the case was still far from resolved. She had, for a moment, stopped asking herself why she wasn't able to do her job anymore. Why the bones didn't talk to her like they used to. Why she had almost cried when they had told those poor parents that their little girls would never come home again. These past few weeks, months even, emotions were flooding over her. Her life, which was usually so easy to compartmentalize, was starting to get messy. She couldn't recognize herself anymore. And she was scared out of her mind.

She finally found the right key and looked up. That's when she saw him, sitting on the floor, next to her door.

"Cal?" Was he stalking her now? Of course something had to be wrong with him! "How long have you been sitting there?"

He got onto his feet.

"Half an hour, maybe? I was about to leave, I was starting to think you had forgotten about me coming to town for the weekend."

Her face probably gave it away, because his voice changed.

"You_ had_ forgotten about me. Great."

She unlocked the door. Feeling ashamed and stupid.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "Come in."

He put his hands in his pockets. He wanted to leave. But he came in anyway.

"I'm so sorry. We've been swamped at work and…"

"I called your office, you weren't there."

"I never said I was."

She took off her coat and Parker's drawing fell to the floor. Cal picked it up, not without taking a look at it.

"That's cute," he said with a smile. "Is this you?"

"Of course, can't you tell?" she said on the same tone Booth had said it. "Parker made it for me. He said I had just arrested a bad guy, apparently."

"Who's Parker?"

"Booth's son."

Apparently, she had just said the wrong thing, because he dropped the drawing on the table and sighed. Loudly.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He turned around, wondering how long he could try to pretend he didn't know what was going on. He figured he would try to be understanding for a little while longer. He knew Temperance Brennan was not like other women. And he really wanted them to work. But then he saw something was missing on the wall and prayed he didn't already know why.

"Where's your TV? Was it defective?"

The old Brennan would have immediately said the truth, without even having to think about it. But she struggled with her answer. Booth had warned her about this.

"I…" She took a deep breath and blurted out the rest. "… gave it to a friend."

_This is almost funny! _Cal thought. He knew who she had given it to. And he had no right to be mad. It was a gift to her; she could do whatever she wanted with it. Right? Right. But he didn't have to take it anymore.

"We need to talk," he said, his head down.

Brennan froze. Angela had told her what that meant. She knew what he was about to do. A mix of emotions came crashing down on her.

"You're breaking up with me," she stated.

He looked at her.

"I really like you," he said.

What was she supposed to say now? She had never been good at this.

"I like you, too. But you're breaking up with me?"

"I don't think you're really into me."

"You can't know that. It is impossible to know how another person feels."

"Yes, it is. Sometimes, it's obvious."

She bit her lips together and put her hands in her back pockets.

"Is it because I didn't sleep with you?" she tried to understand.

"God, no! How could you say that?"

She didn't know what else to say. She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Temperance, you've got to be honest with yourself. Even our kisses felt robotic, we aren't made for each other."

_Robotic? Seriously? _No one had ever complained about her kissing technique before! That comment stung more than she could admit. She tried to sting back.

"You're one of those mushy people who believe in the ridiculous notion of soul mates?"

He didn't flinch.

"I don't know. But what I do believe is that there's something more, and that we're both missing out."

Her cell phone rang. Great timing. Cal sighed and shifted on his feet while she took a look at her caller ID. It was Angela. She pressed ignored, though she really, really wanted the distraction of her best friend's voice.

"Booth's your real boyfriend," Cal dropped.

Taken aback, she frowned and disagreed vehemently.

"No, he's not!"

"He is. I'm just some guy you hang out with when you got time."

"Why does Booth always have to become an issue with you?"

"Because he's the most important person in your life."

Who was he to judge her? He had no right to… _GAH!!_

"So you're breaking up with me because I work with Booth?"

"I'm breaking up with you because you don't realize he's more than just your partner."

She felt the urge to kick him out. Figuratively speaking. And litteraly, too. She was pissed as hell! Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, but they were made from rage and nothing else. She. Was. Fed. Up.

"I told you! Over and over and over again! We. Work together. And we are friends. And nothing else! I'm so sick of everyone thinking otherwise!"

"If everyone thinks you're together, maybe you should try to take another look at yourselves." He took the drawing Booth's son had made for her. "Even a little boy can see what's right in front of him."

She laughed through the shock, throwing her hands in the air. She shook her head. There was nothing else she could do.

"You need to get over him. Or on him. But you can't just ignore it anymore. You won't be happy as long as you do."

The door shut behind him.

Quietly, she took Parker's drawing and hung it on her fridge. She stood there, looking at it. _It's a little boy's creative drawing, Bones, not a photograph for the National Geographic!_ Right. A creative drawing straight from his imagination.

She shut her eyes tightly. What she… _felt_… for Booth, sometimes, on occasion… There was no way he felt it too. They were a great team. They were great as they were. And there was a line. That didn't need to be there. But that maybe someone should draw again. As a reminder.


	8. A Kiss Is Still a Kiss

**A.N.**** Thanks guys for all the comments! I'll try to come up with updates quicker, ok? I just had some problems the last few days because my laptop almost died. But it seems I was able to save it! Yay! Now, hold your breath... here we go:**

Chapter 8  
**A Kiss Is Still a Kiss...**

She had been busy in her office all day. Or she had been hiding. Either way, she even had forgotten to have lunch. Maybe they all saw she was in a bad mood, because no one had dared to interrupt her. Yet.

"Bren?" Angela said softly, careful not to startle her.

"Working."

"I can see that," she replied, walking on egg shells.

She pulled a chair and sat next to her best friend. She read out loud what was on the computer screen.

"The three girls, age 8, 9 and 10, were found the next morning in their sleeping bags a hundred feet from their tent by the camp counsellor. They had been raped, bludgeoned and strangled to death...?"

Angela stopped. Her voice refused to continue.

"That was back in 1977. The Oklahoma girl scout murders. It's still unsolved today."

"You think it could be the same killer? 32 years later?" Angela asked, on the verge of tears.

"I don't know. That's why I'm doing research," Brennan said, refocusing on the screen, scrolling down to another article.

"You usually let me do this," the artist pointed out.

"I can't just sit around and wait for you guys to find something, I have to... The bones are... This..."

"I understand."

Brennan looked tired. Oh, she was still stunningly hot, but she was tense and agitated. Angela didn't know what to do to help her. She simply asked, without pushing,

"You know you can tell me everything, right?"

Brennan mindlessly adjusted the screen in front of her before clicking on another headline.

"This one was last year," she explained. "Two other girl scouts were kidnapped and murdered. They were raped, too, but they were abducted from their homes... This is unbelievable. Listen to this..."

But Angela didn't want to hear any more.

"I'm talking about you, sweetie. You can tell me what's bothering you."

"This case is bothering me!" she bellowed.

Shocked, Angela literally backed off. Brennan rarely, if ever, snapped like this. She was usually disturbingly calm and cold with cases as horrid as this one was. She never got emotionally involved. She normally avoided it at any cost. In anything, really.

Realizing she was making a fool of herself, the anthropologist tilted her head down and stared at her keyboard. _I really should clean it,_ she thought, trying to keep her mind on something concrete. Then she shut off the computer screen and, without looking at Angela, she got herself together enough to say,

"I think I'm gonna go to Honduras. Professor Garron offered me a spot on her team. It would only be for a month. And at the pace we're going with this investigation, things will probably be the same when I get back."

Angela scooted closer. Her voice was low and steady.

"When did it happen?"

"She invited me two weeks ago, but it shouldn't be too late to accept."

"No..." she whispered, putting her hand on her friend's arm. "When did you and Cal break up?"

Surprised, Brennan looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone.

"Who told you?"

"You're always planning a great trip when one of your relationships ends."

Brennan took a minute to realize Ange was right. And she said,

"Am I supposed to be sad he broke up with me? Because I'm not. I'm... angry. Angry at the reason why he did it. And I'm... furious at myself because I know I should be sad, but I'm... I can't believe how relieved I am. How insane am I?"

"You didn't love him, that's all."

"I wanted to."

_Are you sure?_

"I know," Angela murmured, brushing her arm.

Brennan's chest tightened. Her eyes wandered on the artefacts on the bookshelf.

"And I'm scared," she let out.

Angela quickly sat up straighter.

"Of Cal? What did he do?" she pressed on, concerned.

"I'm scared I'm... I'm never gonna find someone to... I'm scared I'm gonna end up alone." She heard herself speak and it irritated her. "And I used to love being alone. I didn't care about... I didn't care. But now, I'm...What if..."

Angela's heart broke seeing her friend struggle like this. She spoke up.

"You're not gonna end up alone. You just can't force emotions."

Brennan sighed, tired of this sappy conversation, when Angela, who already knew the answer, asked a question.

"Did Cal break up with you because of Booth?"

"I didn't even sleep with him."

She saw Angela's eyes get bigger, so to avoid confusion, she added, "With Cal."

"Wow," she let out. "I would have. A lot. He was a gorgeous specimen."

Brennan laughed.

"I know! I should have. I have a great libido. I don't know why... I just couldn't."

_I didn't want to have crappy sex._

"Does Booth know about your breakup?"

Brennan kind of snorted.

"No! And you're not gonna tell him."

"Why not? He should know."

"It's none of his business. Besides, he's just gonna feel bad for me and then he's gonna make a joke or two about Cal... I don't wanna hear it."

_But what's the point of breaking up with Mr. Hotel if Booth doesn't even know?_ Angela cried inside.

"Promise me you're not gonna say anything," Brennan begged.

"I promise," Angela mumbled. "Hey!" Her face lit up. She had something in mind. "You should go to the Caribbean instead of Honduras. I'll go with you. We'll lie on the beach, drink out asses off, commiserate and have fun. We never go anywhere together. Let's do it!"

Brennan smiled at the idea, but her eyes averted to her computer.

"Sounds good. But I really want to solve this damn case."

"I know," Angela nodded and got up, ready to leave. "Hey, you should tell Sweets about..."

"I am _not_ talking to Sweets about my breakup."

"About the 1977 Oklahoma killings. Maybe he could figure out if it's a pattern or just a coincidence."

Brennan bit her lips together.

"Right."

***

She came out of the elevator and headed straight to his office. She looked around, but her partner, A.K.A. the Man who was ruining her social life, was nowhere to be seen. She called out his name anyway.

"Booth?"

"Down here," she heard.

She looked at where his voice was coming from and she saw his legs next to his desk. She approached and saw him, his back flat on the floor.

"Are you hurt?!" she blurted out, trying not to sound too panicky.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." She tilted her head to the side.

"I've been sitting all day, getting nowhere. I thought lying down would give me a new perspective."

She pondered and checked the ceiling to see what he was looking at.

"Is it working?" she asked, lying down next to him.

"Nope. But I'm too tired to get up."

"What if your boss sees you like this?"

"You mean sees _us_?"

They stayed like this, in silence, for nearly 2 minutes before Brennan told him what she was here to tell him.

"Cam said she might have found something. She's running some tests right now. She says we might have more info on the crime scene tonight."

"Good. We might solve this case before we turn 70, then."

Still on the floor next to him, Brennan examined the ceiling. It really needed a fresh coat of paint. For a second, she was tempted to tell him she and Cal were no longer together, but she decided not to. She still wanted his opinion on one thing, though.

"Booth, do you think I kiss like a robot?"

She turned her head to him when she heard his clear laugh.

"What?! What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you think I kiss like a robot?" she repeated.

He turned his head, too, and they locked eyes.

"How should I know?" he asked.

Brennan blinked. _He doesn't remember kissing me?_

"I've never kissed a robot," he finished.

_So this is what it feels like when I'm being literal?_

She knew there was a reason why she hated speaking in analogies. She looked back at the ceiling, bringing her hands on her stomach.

_Never mind._

"Did Cal say you kiss like a robot?" _I'm gonna kick his ass! I knew there was something wrong with that Ken doll._

"No, he didn't." _Not really._

"Then where is this coming from?"

"I just want to know... if... because..." _Why the hell did I even ask that? And why can't I speak normally today?! _She should have stopped herself, but since she had started, her pride made her continued like it was no big deal. "Do you think I'm a good kisser?"

Booth was glad she was staring at the ceiling and not at his face, because he could feel his ears were burning red. _If she only knew..._

"From what I've... _briefly_ experienced, you were... probably still are..." _Aw, now, come on. Don't stop now, you little twit!_ "... different than a robot."

What kind of answer was that? Brennan looked at him and frowned. He wasn't looking at her.

"Is that good or bad?" she pressured.

"I don't know how robots kiss, but I'm pretty sure it's good."

"But..."

"It's good, Bones," he concluded.

They stared back at the ceiling. Booth put his arms under his head, Brennan crossed hers over her stomach. And they kept quiet, afraid the other would know what they were thinking about. It still smelled like mistletoe and spearmint gum.

***

The next morning, around 6, Booth entered the Jeffersonian with two cups of java. They hadn't had time to stop by the dinner in a while, and he knew how much she liked their coffee. He also knew that she had spent the night at the lab to do some extremely technical, super sophisticated and incredibly delicate procedure to the bones of the victims that only she could do. She would need that coffee like he needed a back massage.

The security guards at the entrance greeted him as usual, although they weren't supposed to let anyone in before 8, and he made his way to her office. No one was supposed to start work before 9 today; they would have time to review all they had so far.

He was about to start whistling to announce his presence when he abruptly stopped walking as if he had hit a brick wall. He almost turned around. He almost did. But she was so beautiful, her slightly arched back facing him... He couldn't move at all. So he stood there, one coffee in each hand, heart racing, lips drying up, as she stepped off the white towel on the floor.

Brennan had just come out of the decontamination shower. She didn't feel like going home just to come back. Besides, she always kept a spare outfit in her office for times like this. Good thing the security men hadn't started their rounds yet, because she had forgotten to bring her clothes with her. She had quickly made it to her office, a towel wrapped around her, and hadn't encountered anyone. She hadn't even bothered to shut the blinds on the glass walls; that's how safe she felt in there. She had always been more comfortable at work than at home. After double checking if she had everything she needed, she took the ends of the white towel and let it fall to the floor.

His body was not responding to his brain anymore. All he could do was gaze as she reached for her underwear. He knew he should, at least, close his eyes. He knew the right thing to do, since he was paralyzed, was to scream something like "Oh! My God, Bones! I'm sorry!" so she would cover up, yelping "Go away!" in a typical feminine screechy sound. Or maybe she would just tell him something clever like "Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before? You know, there are entire societies who live unashamed of nakedness. In certain cultures, nudity is not a taboo and it doesn't have sexual connotations like blah-blah, blah-blah." But he just couldn't. He would feel bad later; he most likely would have to go to confession on Sunday -he was ogling another man's girl, for Christ's sake!- but right now, he felt... everything. She was so astonishingly perfect, it almost made him ache inside.

She zipped and buttoned her dark jeans, then slid into her reddish blouse. She sighed, content. She had slept a mere 3 hours last night, but she hadn't felt that good in a long time. She finally had something useful to do. Something only she, along with maybe 2 or 3 other forensic anthropologist in the world, could do. She would know the results only later in the day, but it didn't matter either way. She had done everything perfectly, she had taken her time, had focused on something tangible, forgotten all about her silly and confusing feelings. She had gone back to normal. She couldn't wait to catch that son of a bitch who had killed those young girls. They would most certainly have a real suspect by the end of the day. Booth would be happy, she would be happy, everything would be fantastic. She could feel it.

She hadn't seen him. He waited until she sat down at her desk, hoping she would not spot him yet. He needed to calm down. Literally. Her phone rang and he thanked God for that reprieve. As soon as she hung up, he walked directly in front of her desk, where a big, tall stack of folders would help cover up his... masculine condition. She didn't need to see this erection, too.

"Hey!" she said, cheerful. He handed her the coffee. "Thanks."

She got up and continued talking.

"Hodgins just called. He said he reviewed his findings from yesterday, and realized the urushiol traces from the toxicodendron radicans he found could only have come from one section of the refuge. It took him some time to figure it out because the traces were minimal and they were mixed with all that residue from the liquidambar styraciflua species."

"Ok, hold on," Booth stopped her. "Back up and start with the first word I don't understand."

She sighed. "Hodgins just called. He said..."

"Well, I understood _that_!"

He followed her as she headed out, re-explaining him with normal terms like "oil toxin from the Poison-Ivy" and "seeds from the Sweet gum tree". How hard was it to speak human? Seriously. _Women are complicated enough as it is._

***

There he was, as planned. Turner. Their one and only suspect. He had just came out of a building, and lit up a cigarette. Just like their informant had promised. They had to arrest him in order to interrogate him. And in order to do so, they had to catch him, first. This probably was their only chance. That man was like the invisible man. Everyone had heard of him, but very few actually had a face to face with him. He never stayed in one place very long and was nearly impossible to track down. The plan sounded simple. As soon as Turner passed by them, Booth was to put a tracking device on him. He would bump into him and drop it into one of his pockets.

Standing at the corner of the street, filmed by a traffic camera, Booth and Brennan were ready to intercept him without scaring him away. Brennan's heart was racing. She really was nervous. Booth was just focused and steady.

"Stop staring at him, Bones," Booth whispered. "You'll scare him off."

"He _has_ to walk past us, where else would he go? It's a dead end on the other side."

"I don't know. He could vanish or something. Just try and look normal."

"I am normal."

"Sure."

"This is not the place nor the time to argue," Sweets' voice warned them.

He was in a truck a couple of blocks away, watching them on a monitor.

Booth discretely adjusted his earpiece. Brennan wasn't allowed to adjust hers. He had warned her if she just slightly touched it, he would take it back. He said she was not subtle. And he was wrong. She could be _so_ subtle.

"We'll have him bugged in a few seconds, Sweets. Don't worry."

Sweets didn't want to tell Booth how to do his job, but he had to intervene here.

"Uhm... Agent Booth? Could you, just maybe, look like you're talking to Dr. Brennan and not to yourself? You don't want him to figure you out as a cop, do you?"

Booth sighed because Brennan was enjoying this way too much. Getting ordered around by a tiny psychologist. That was definitely _not_ in his job description.

He noticed Brennan was still glancing too much at the suspect who hadn't even started walking yet. He put his hands on her hips and turned her around so she would face him completely. And he looked at her as he spoke to Sweets.

"Sweets, could you tell Dr. Brennan, here, to stop looking at the suspect?"

Brennan, whose heart had skipped a beat at the contact of his large hands on her, replied.

"I'm not even looking!" She smiled at him and put her hands flat on his torso. Firm. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had stopped producing saliva the instant he had brought her closer to him. She decided to focus on his St. Christopher medal around his neck instead of trying to hold his gaze without flinching.

She was so nervous about this whole thing. They needed to know more about this man. He was their one and only lead and it had taken them weeks just to know he even existed. They needed this. She couldn't help but glance his way one more time. Just for a few milliseconds.

"Dr. Brennan, seriously. You have to stop. He _is_ getting suspicious. I know it."

"Oh, you read minds now?" she whispered into her microphone.

"No, I read body language. And his is starting to indicate he's getting increasingly nervous. "

She didn't really think. She just wanted to see what those indicators were. She knew she souldn't, but she did anyway. She looked again.

"Oh, my God. Agent Booth, you have to do something!" the shrink urged him.

Booth saw her turn her head for the hundredth time. He had to stop her at any cost. He had to. Right? The only thing he could do was the first thing that came to his mind. Well, the only thing that had been on his mind even since 6 this morning.

She felt Booth's warm fingers on her chin, bringing her head back to face him. And before she could say a word or even realize what was happening, her eyes were closing and his lips were on hers. She gasped, slightly, parting her lips. He deepened the kiss and exhaled. She clenched onto the fabric of his shirt and breathed him in. She took his upper lip into her mouth and her tongue darted out without permission. Booth instinctively pulled on her hips and brought them closer to him. When his tongue, slightly trembling, caressed hers, a jolt of electricity went through them. She grinded onto him, sliding one of her thighs between his legs. And he kissed her again, even slower.

Sweets was staring to the monitor, agape. He even forgot what he was doing in this truck. _That. Was. Hot._ He laughed to himself, threw his arms in the air and looked around, as if he was searching for his friends to tell them what was going on. But when he understood what was going on, that the suspect had taken advantage of this moment to quietly pass them by and slip away, it was too late. Turner was gone. Without a tracking device.

Booth broke the kiss first. He had no idea how, but he had managed to.

Brennan realized she was still holding his shirt and she let it go.

Booth tried to explain. He was out of breath, but he hid it well.

"I had to stop you. You were still... You were about to... uhm..."

"I understand," she brushed off. "You wanted us to keep our cover. I won't look again, I promise. Lesson learned," she tried to laugh off.

"Uhm, guys?" Sweets' voice startled them.

Brennan touched her earpiece. Booth didn't say anything, he was touching his lips.

"What?" Booth asked. He sounded annoyed. He pinched his lips together and licked her taste away. But when he saw she was doing the same thing he was, he stopped and shifted on his feet.

"... We need to talk," Sweets said, slowly.

She had just promised she wouldn't look again, but...

"Where's Turner?" she asked, worried.

Booth's head spun around. This couldn't be happening.

"Sweets? Where's the suspect? Did he go back inside?"

The psychologist cleared his throat.

"Uhm... We need to talk," he repeated.

Booth and Brennan started at each other. _Fuck._

--------------------------

TBC... I really hope you will still read and review this even though the real show starts this week (tonight or tomorrow, depending on your country). I wished I was finished, but I got plenty more to say. So... hopefully, I'll still have readers to write for!

HAPPY PREMIERE!! (review anyway?)


	9. Soft Science Is Not Sweet

**A.N. ****Thanks for reading my stuff even though the real deal is back! (YAYAYAYAYYYY!!!!)**

Chapter 9  
**Soft Science Is Not Sweet**

Booth was trying hard to keep his mouth shut. Not that he was scared of the man in front of him, but that man, being his boss's boss, could easily take his badge and his gun away. So every time he went to say something, all that came out was, "Yes, sir" or, "I understand, sir."

"You assured us, agent Booth, that Dr. Brennan was capable of handling the situation."

But when you attacked his Bones...

"She wasn't the problem, sir."

"Oh! Then, you were?"

_Keep it cool, Booth. _

"Dr. Sweets guaranteed you two were fit to work as a team. That's not what we've..."

"Speaking of Dr. Sweets," Booth interjected. As much as the psychologist was getting under his skin most of the time, he didn't want to get him in trouble. But he kind of had to. His partnership with Bones could be on the line here. "He had eyes on the scene. He could have alerted us! He should have..."

"Are you telling me, agent Booth, that you need a shrink by your side to do your job?"

"Of course not, but..."

"One more mistake like this, and your badge is mine."

Gulp.

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

Booth was waiting for him to continue. But there was only silence and mean stares. Was he supposed to leave? Was everything ok? Could he go back to work?

"And since you love that shrink so much, you and your doctor will see him once a week for a month. And he will report directly to me. You're under evaluation... _again_."

"Sir..."

"That will be all, agent Booth."

He fled out of there as fast as humanly possible.

***

Waiting in the hall of the federal building, Brennan reviewed what had just happened. She had been so nervous and so excited, so eager to catch the bastard, that she had compromised the whole thing. That kiss... was not a kiss. It was the only logical way Booth had found to keep cover. _She_ was the one who had turned it into something more. Right?

She sighed and buried her face in her palms for a second. No matter how she tried to spin it, the outcome was the same: they had screwed up. And where was Sweets during that moment where the suspect had fled? _Don't put this on him. It's all on you._

She heard a door shut and her head spun up. As soon as she saw him approaching, she was on her feet, terrified.

"So?"

"So what?" he asked, making his way out of the building.

She followed his fast pace. "Are you in tro... Are we ok?"

Booth was infuriated. With himself. Never, in all his years as a sniper or as a cop, had he ever screwed up like this. Shooting a clown didn't even register on the scale of mistakes of this magnitude. He wanted to distract her, sure. But _kissing _her? Really? That was incredibly stupid. He knew what it would do. He knew he couldn't just give her a peck. The second she had sighed into his mouth, he had lost it. All he could think about was to do her on the brick wall, right there in the alley.

Finally outside, Booth tried to remember in which parking lot he had left his car. He looked right, then left, then decided to go left.

"Booth! Are we ok?" she asked again. He was visibly upset. More than she had ever seen him.

He realized he was going in the wrong direction and turned the other way, almost bumping into her. He could hear her talk, but he was just too pissed to...

"Booth!" she almost yelled, grabbing his arm to make him stop. She searched for his eyes, never letting go of him. "Answer me. Please."

He locked eyes with hers. They connected like they always did.

_Are we ok?_

"We're good."

"But what did he say? Are you on probation or..."

"_We_ are under evaluation."

"Again?"

"Once a week with Sweets. But we're still partners."

She let her hand drift down his arm. To his hand. And laced her fingers through his.

"I'm sorry I screwed us up," she murmured.

Booth frowned. He squeezed her hand in his.

"_You_'re sorry? I'm the one who... I'm sorry I kissed you." _I'm sorry I kissed you at the worst time ever._

"No! I'm..." She cleared her throat and realized they were holding hands. She drew it back. "I couldn't stop looking over at Turner. You needed to divert my attention, and you found a logical way to do so."

He dug into her eyes, searching for the truth. Did she really think he had kissed her... for the case?

"Right?" she asked.

She had doubts. She didn't know anything anymore. She needed him to reassure her. To tell her they would still be able to work together. That they were the greatest team. They needed to be ok. It didn't matter what her body was telling her.

Booth saw a hint of fear in her eyes. He knew the timing still wasn't right. He knew she wasn't ready. He wasn't ready either. But what if he told her? What if he said, "No. I kissed you because I needed to. And you liked it as much as I did."?

"Of course. But I should have seen Turner escape us. I'm the trained FBI agent."

She knew it was her fault. If she hadn't...

"I'm sorry I kissed you back," she replied, softly. He wanted to distract her, but she had no excuse. Other than the fact that his large hands on her waist were pulling her so close that her body had no other choice than to brush against his. Over and over. Mammal instincts. And a more than clear potential sexual compatibility. She tried to stop thinking about it. Flashing back to that moment wasn't doing them any good.

Booth blinked a few times. She admitted she had kissed him back? He was glad it wasn't all in his head. But now he would have to work even harder not to do it again. Ever.

***

Brennan had never been to the principal's office for reprimands, but she imagined that's exactly what it felt like. She clasped her hands together and fretfully examined her nails.

Booth was boiling. Why was it that they had to couch it every week, whereas that sweet Dr. Junior, here, could still do his job like he had done nothing wrong? He loosened up his tie.

Sweets was nervous. How was he supposed to make them deal with this when he, too, was in the wrong? That kiss had taken him by surprise and he had been incredibly unprofessional. How was he supposed to guide them, now? Now that he had, maybe, lost his last shred of credibility to them? He tried something he was good at: ask questions.

"So!" He clapped his hands together and the notepad on his lap almost fell to the floor. He caught it just in time, but it was too late. Booth was already smirking, sitting a little taller than a few seconds ago. "How are you?" he continued anyway.

"We're fine, Sweets."

Brennan nodded. It was weird how, as soon as they set foot into the psychologist's office, they always became a 'we'.

"Did you two talk about..."

"Already forgotten," Brennan lied. She didn't need to look at her partner to know he was probably staring at the floor or at his shoes. Then she felt he was looking at her, but she didn't turn to him.

"Of course," Sweets let out. "Yes. That's to be expected. And how do you feel about it?"

The question was aimed at Booth.

"About what? I feel nothing."

"Nothing?" Sweets confirmed, sceptical.

"Nothing."

"No emotions, whatsoever?"

Booth was losing patience. Brennan crossed her legs and sighed. As fun as watching those two going at it usually was, she had no intention of spending the next hour this uncomfortable. She bit her lips together and tried the pointless breathing exercise Angela had shown her. It didn't work, but at least, it gave her something to concentrate on.

Booth continued.

"Nope."

And Sweets pursued.

"You lost a suspect, and you feel nothing?"

_Oh!_

"Oh! About that? I'm pissed."

"Now you're angry."

"That's what I just said."

"You just said you felt nothing."

"I thought you were talking about something else," Booth cleared up, ticked off.

_There you go. Right where I wanted you._ Sweets leaned forward.

"Then what don't you feel anything about?"

"I feel nothing about nothing, alright? Where's this going exactly?" Booth cracked.

Sweets leaned back into his leather chair and said, "I think that's a question we all would like an answer to."

Brennan intervened before Booth could jump up and strangle the young doctor.

"Look," she said. "We all know this was my fault. So can we just, please, move on?"

Booth couldn't bear the thought that she would blame herself. But she had gotten the shrink's attention and gotten him off his back, so he stayed quiet.

"I think we all share equal responsibility in letting the suspect evade us," Sweets admitted. He knew he was risking a lot by saying so, but they were both so guilt ridden, he had to be honest.

"Damn right," Booth mumbled.

"But let's put this aside for a moment and focus on the real issue."

_No, no, no, no, no._

_No, no ,no, no._

"You two kissed."

_BAM!_ _There you go._

"How is this the issue?" Brennan asked. But Sweets didn't answer.

"For the second time," he said, instead.

_Keeping tabs on us, much? _Booth thought.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy. And they had to force themselves not to look at each other.

"I sense a great deal of frustration here," the shrink said, tracing circles in front of him with his arms. "And we... _You_ have to address it now."

_Address what?_

_Right now?_

"There eventually comes a point where you can't just sweep this under the rug anymore."

_What rug?_ Brennan frowned.

_Sweep what?_ Booth frowned.

"What are you talking about?" Booth said, hoping he was still able to intimidate him with his tone, just trying to buy some time to put his thoughts together.

"You really need me to verbalize what's going on?" Sweets asked.

_No._

_Yes._

Brennan spoke up. "You can verbalize all you want, there's nothing going on. I don't know why you are so keen to find some meaning in everything we do or say or don't do or don't say, but we are fine. Right?" she turned to Booth.

"Exactly," Booth agreed. Not really. Was the hour over soon?

Sweets sighed. No one was more stubborn than those two put together.

"Ok. Let me just..." He got up, walked behind his desk and dropped the notepad on it. "You two are great at your job. And because of what your line of work entails, you are experts at compartmentalizing. And that's super. You have to be able to do so. The thing is..."

He saw them cross their arms over their chest at the same time. They would stop listening in a matter of seconds. He had to make them understand how their actions – or lack thereof- were potentially dangerous.

"The problem with compartmentalization is that the mind still needs to release the energy associated with a compartmentalized thought."

Had they understood a single word he had just said? Didn't look like it.

"And it results in avoidance," he explained. "You both fight a lot."

"We've always argued!" Brennan said. "Why is this relevant now? You're just taking things out of context so they fit your theory."

"But you agree with me that the arguments are more and more frequent and even more heated then usual?"

Booth and Brennan exchanged a look.

"What you are doing is called "reaction formation". It's the 7th coping mechanism."

"You're just making this up," Booth said.

But Sweets continued.

"You are converting dangerous thoughts..."

"Dangerous thoughts? What are we? Psychopaths?!" Booth exclaimed.

"... _or_ unwanted feelings and impulses into their opposites."

Booth making jokes just proved his point. He was so uncomfortable with the truth being laid out in front of him that he turned everything upside down to make it sound ridiculous.

Booth laughed. Brennan imitated him and tried to sum up his crazy rant.

"So, basically, you're saying that we bicker because we don't want to bicker?"

Sweet shook his head. They were trying to baffle him.

"No, not at all. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that you are avoiding the underlying problem by turning it into something else. You are getting too close for comfort, so you push each other away by arguing incessantly."

"Of course we are close," Brennan said. "We're not avoiding that. He saved my life, I saved his life, we are together all the time. Why is this a problem all of a sudden? Isn't that what makes us a great team?"

"It's not the..."

She continued. "I wish you would stop trying to overanalyze everything. Why does this... kiss... have to be a big deal? We lost a suspect. Fine. We're both incredibly pissed about that, but talking about it for hours won't solve anything. Booth kissed me simply because it was the only logical thing to do to force me to look somewhere else without blowing our cover."

Sweets smiled.

"Exactly," Booth echoed. "That's no formation reaction or whatever mumbo jumbo you're trying to prove."

Sweets was still smiling.

"What?" Brennan said, getting worked up.

"You do that a lot," he simply said.

"What did she do?" Booth wanted to know.

"That's the 10th coping mechanism."

"Here we go again..."

"Intellectualization," Sweets described. "It's just the overemphasis on thinking when confronted with an unacceptable impulse, situation or behaviour without employing any emotions to help mediate and place the thoughts into an emotional, human context."

"He's just trying to confuse us," Booth told Brennan. But she was listening to the psychologist. Surprisingly, he had caught her attention.

"Rather than deal with the associated emotions that are too painful or scary, you intellectualize to distance yourself from the impulse. It's basic stuff."

"Well, this was interesting," Booth said. The second he had seen the doctor had strummed a chord with her partner, he had jumped onto his feet. "Come on, Bones. We have work to do."

Dazed, Brennan went to get up to, but Sweets held up his hands.

"Sublimation! Excellent. That's the 13th coping mechanism."

"Aw! Come on!" Booth cried, sitting back down.

"You are simply channelling unacceptable emotions into more acceptable ones."

"I'm not..."

"You are refocusing that unwanted energy," Sweets carried on, "into something productive. Work."

"And that's bad because...?" Brennan asked.

"I'm not here to judge. I'm not saying it's bad or good. I'm just saying it is. Dr. Brennan showed major signs of sublimation when she thought you were dead. She threw herself into her work. That's a textbook defin..."

"Yeah, well, he's not dead, is he? And we _do_ have to work."

"Sure. But you can't keep going like this forever."

"Great. Thanks," Booth grabbed her arm, and they both got up to leave.

Sick of all this, Brennan turned to the young man. "And what do you suggest we do? You think there's something wrong with us, you want to fix us, tell us what to do."

_Just sleep together already!_

"Just talk about it already!"

"Talk about what?!" Booth whined.

"I can't give you all the answers. You have to find your own..."

"Yeah, right. Great chatting with you."

They shut the door behind them, but neither of them felt the relief they were expecting. They both still felt like they were walking on a wire. On a line.

"Well... that was..." Booth started.

"Ridiculous?"

"Among other things."

"Yeah."

"And it was..."

_Awkward?_

_Infuriating?_

_Uncomfortable?_

_Totally._

"And we have to do this every week?" Brennan checked.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"A month."

They walked to the elevator, still holding their breath, it seemed. Booth pushed the button, Brennan let him.

What did they all want from them? They had been doing the exact same thing for over 4 years, right? What had changed? What was so different? Why couldn't they just stop thinking and just go on as usual? She hated psychology.

***

That was the 11th time she had checked her watch. Maybe she was late for a date. It had been a long day. He could finish up the report by himself.

"You can go if you want to," he said. "I can write the rest myself."

She looked up at him and took the pen she was holding out of her mouth.

"I'm not letting you do this alone. We both lost the suspect. It wouldn't be fair for you to be the only one trying to come up with good excuses as to why..."

He smiled.

"You know, maybe Sweets should help. It's his fault, too," she proposed.

"I think he's helped enough."

"You're right."

She re-read the last paragraph they had come up with in silence. Her mind wandered. She furtively glanced at him. He was looking for another pen in his drawer. Cursing had how messy it was. Like it was anybody else's fault but his. Had he always been that... adorable? She squeezed her eyes shut. _What the hell?_

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Nothing," she quickly replied.

Booth laughed. "You know... it is _scientifically_ impossible not to think. Your brain is always processing millions of information in a mere second."

She shook her head, laughing at his failed attempt to imitate her.

"Nothing important," she rectified.

"Which would be?"

But his phone rang, so she shrugged. Instead of picking it up, he pressed the speaker button.

"Booth," he answered.

"Finally! Where have you been, man? I've been trying to reach you all day."

"Hello to you too, Jerry."

Brennan mouthed "Who's Jerry?" but Booth didn't read lips very well, it seemed.

"Ok, so there's this club grand opening tonight and I've got two V.I.P. passes..."

"No," Booth quickly refused.

"What?! You can't say no. Last time you promised you would not say no to me ever again."

"I'm wiped, pal. Next time, ok? I promise."

"There won't be a next time! This club is hot. And you're coming with me."

Brennan saw Booth work really hard to find an excuse.

"Aw... I don't... We're too old for this," he said.

The guy laughed over the phone.

"No wonder you haven't had sex in so long!"

Brennan's eyes went up to his face just in time to see him turn red.

Booth avoided her gaze and snorted loudly.

"What?! It hasn't been that long," he rectified.

"Not that long? For whom? A priest? You told me it had been..."

Booth fumbled with the phone and succeeded in taking it off speaker before Brennan could hear the rest.

"I don't tell you everything I... No! That's not... You're an idiot."

He stayed quiet for a moment, still avoiding looking at her. Brennan crossed her arms over his desk and tilted her head. She squinted at him. How long had it been, exactly?

"Yes, she is here," Booth tried to whisper. But she heard, frowned and smiled with curiosity.

"Whatever. I'm not going. I'll call you later." And he hung up.

Booth waited for her to talk. He knew she would have plenty to say.

"Do I know Jerry?" she began.

"No."

"But he knows me?"

"No. Why would you..."

"He asked if I was there."

"We weren't talking about you."

"You're lying," she said, unsure.

"Can we finish this, please?" He pointed to all the papers spread on his desk. But she didn't stop staring at him.

"How long has it been since your last intercourse?"

He squirmed, as expected.

"Do I ask you about your sex life?" he said, exasperated and a little... fine! _Very_ embarrassed.

"What do you wanna know?" she bluntly let out, hoping he wouldn't chose this precise moment to surprise her with a new and open attitude. She did not want to have to tell him she had never slept with Cal. That they weren't even together anymore.

"I don't wanna know anything! You... your business. Me... My business."

"Fine."

She grabbed the report again, and handed it to him.

"Your turn to write," she told him.

He took it, careful not to brush her hand in passing.

He recapped what they had so far and tried to come up with a proper conclusion. But she couldn't let it go.

"Booth?"

"Don't even think about asking what you're about to ask."

"I wasn't gonna ask anything!" she lied, defensively. He looked at her. And saw that she was trying to come up with something else. As long as she didn't say anything about biological urges, he would be fine.

He went for a preventive strike and almost shouted, "I have plenty of sex on a regular basic, ok? I just don't go around telling people about it."

As she said, "I haven't had sex in a while either."

They shut up and locked eyes.

Why would he lie about his sex life? To prove that he was not pining for her? To prove that he was a real man?

Why did she need to confess something like this? How could he always make her say stuff she didn't want to say?

"You have?" she asked. _With whom?? _

"You don't have to sound so surprised," he mumbled.

"Sorry. It's just..."

"You didn't sleep with Cal?" Poor guy. He must be dying from the inside.

She repeated his last sentence. "You don't have to sound so surprised."

Here they were again. Stuck in awkwardness. Unable to talk their way out of there.

"Why are we talking about sex?" Brennan enquired.

"You brought it up."

"No I didn't! You..."

_I sense a great deal of frustration here,_ Sweets voice echoed in their minds.

"Let's just..." Booth gestured, bringing their attention back to his desk.

"Yes."

She put the pen back between her teeth.

------------

TBC ...Thank you for making me want to write more every time I post a chapter! Some more heat coming up. Real unavoidable heat. Reviews make me happy. I don't want to blackmail you but... Make me happy, ok?


	10. Tradition Is Wasted

**A.N. ****This chapter is for all my devoted reviewers, the anonymous readers and especially for **_**Penelope1985**_** who provided me with much needed butt kicking a couple of times. I'm so sorry for the lack of updates lately :( I don't know what happened!****You guys are worth writing for :) I love that you take the time to let me know you still care. I hope you like this one... **

Chapter 10  
**Tradition Is Wasted **

"Happy birthday, sweetie!" Angela hugged her from behind. Brennan didn't know why she was startled. She should have been used to it by then.

"It's the 12th time you've wished me a happy birthday today, Ange."

"I know. I'm so great!" She watched as her friend went behind her desk and sat at the computer. "What are you doing? I thought you were done for the day," she said.

"I am. Almost."

"Good. Because we are going out tonight."

"What for?"

"To celebrate, what else?!"

"You know how I feel about birthdays," she complained.

"And you know how _I _feel about them. You can't say no. Last year, you said you would let me take you out _this_ year. So... Up, up, up!"

Brennan sighed. She knew she should make an effort and go out with Angela. But she was waiting for something else. Not that she would ever admit it, but... Booth always hung out with her on her birthday. He would always come by after work. They would order in and spend a quiet evening together. He never mentioned it was for her birthday, because he knew she hated it, but he was there. And he always discreetly put a funny birthday card on her desk. And she liked that tradition. Not that she would call it a tradition, per se.

"I think we should concentrate on the case," she tried.

"There's nothing to concentrate on! Without a confession, we will never get Turner."

"Maybe we missed som..."

"No. Stop. Don't even go there, it's not healthy."

Brennan didn't want to say out loud that she was waiting for Booth, but she couldn't think of an excuse, and she didn't want to lie to her best friend.

"Booth should come by soon. He... needs this file," she remembered. She held it high to show Angela she wasn't making this up.

"Ok. Then after, we go out."

"I don't really..."

Angela tried not to get excited as it hit her.

"Do you have plans with Booth?"

"No..."

The artist tilted her head and examined the scientist's features. Surely she wouldn't be lying about something like this.

"There he is," Brennan pointed out as Booth joined them.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted them, cheerful.

"Why, hello to you, too, Booth," Angela replied, still looking at Brennan.

Feeling stared at, Brennan handed him the file he wanted before he even had a chance to ask for it. She glimpsed at Angela, who usually left them alone rather quickly. Why this moment was any different, she had no idea.

If Brennan didn't want to give her a straight answer, she would have to ask the other party.

"So! Booth! What are your plans for tonight?"

That's when he started to act strangely. He buried his hands in his pockets and shifted on his feet. "I'm going out," he said, like it was no big deal.

Angela's eyes grew bigger. Did those two have a secret date tonight? Impossible. Life was never that awesome. She looked from one to the other and realized Brennan looked surprised. And... quite shaken up.

He was going out?

"You are?" she repeated before she could stop herself.

Angela asked the question that was burning Brennan's lips. "With whom?"

Brennan felt a mini-wave of panic go through her. Trying to cover up her shock, she grabbed her purse under her desk.

"Me too," she said. "Angela and I have big plans. Right?"

Angela's head turned to her. What was with the sudden change of attitude?

She was going out? Good for her. Right? Booth squeezed his hands into fists.

"Great," he said.

"Yes."

Angela spotted Sweets, who was coming their way. She called out to him, hoping to break this thick tension steadily building around them.

"Dr. Sweets! Great timing. You wanna go out with Brennan and I?"

The psychologist, who was holding a gift bag, entered the office.

"I would love to," he said. "But I have an important meeting at the F.B.I..."

He tried not to look at Booth or at Brennan, but they both instantly understood what his meeting was about. Them. Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe he felt like he was forced to betray them. At least he had brought her a birthday present...

"Here," he continued, handing her the colourful bag. "Happy birthday."

She took it, even though part of her always thought it was a little stupid to offer gifts on birthdays. She got a year older, it's not like she had accomplished something huge that warranted compensation.

"Thanks," she let out. All three of them were watching her. Suddenly self conscious, she put the bag on her desk.

"Aren't you gonna open it?"Angela asked.

"I will. I'm..."

"It's ok," Sweets said. "You can open it later." He checked his watch. "I have to go. Have fun!" he said as he headed out.

"His meeting must be really important for him to pass out on an opportunity to hang out with us," Angela stated.

Booth and Brennan exchanged a knowing look, trying to figure out if the other was as scared as they were.

"Well..." Booth said, slapping the file into his hand. "Thanks for this," he said, holding it up. "And... uhm... yeah. Don't party too hard," he warned them.

***

Angela refilled Brennan's glass for the fifth time. The anthropologist had stopped looking at her watch every fifteen minutes, and she took it as a good sign.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a tall weird looking man asked her.

"Get in line, pal," another man told him. Before a fight broke out, Angela tried to smooth things over.

"There's no line tonight, boys. Sorry." And she turned back to face a surprised and confused Brennan.

"Why are all the men in here gravitating around you?" she asked. "I'm beautiful, too, and no one has offered me drinks."

Angela knew her friend by heart. It was a good thing, otherwise she could have taken offense.

"Because as much as they would love to buy _you_ drinks, you scare them off."

"I'm not doing anything to scare them away!"

"But you are."

Angela scooted closer and tried to explain how intimidating she could be.

"And I'm not saying it's a bad thing! That way, you probably assure yourself to only attract real strong and confident men... But if you want to feel good and flattered once in a while, you might wanna... Let me teach you a trick."

Curious as to what Angela could possibly teach her now, she paid attention.

"Do exactly what I'm doing, ok?"

She followed instructions and mirrored Angela. She gulped down her glass, too. She was already feeling loopy, but she managed to concentrate on the lesson.

...

She frowned. She was trying to imitate her, but Angela wasn't doing anything.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she verified.

"What _I'm_ doing. Smile."

"You're not smiling, Angela."

"Of course I am! Look carefully."

Brennan waited for it, but...

"I think you are drunker than I am."

"Probably, but that's not the point," Angela said, asking the bartender for another round.

Brennan took a sip and set the glass aside, ready for Angela's explanation.

"You have to smile with your eyes..." she finally said.

Brennan couldn't help but laugh.

"Eyes don't have lips."

"But they show your soul."

Brennan shook her head. She was dizzy.

"That's just ridiculous."

"Smiling with your eyes allows you to remain mysterious while sending out the message you are accessible."

Brennan was still chuckling.

"Don't mock!" Angela laughed. "It's a proven technique!"

"Proven by whom?"

"... By 13 years of A.N.T.M."

"Of what?"

"Never mind. Please, try it. For me."

When Angela begged, no one could say no. Brennan set her glass on the counter and sighed. She looked Angela right in the eye and tried not to laugh.

"Ok. Don't use your lips at all. Just put some intensity in your eyes."

"Angela..."

"Just do it," she cut her off. "Look fierce."

"Like this?"

Brennan's face got all stiff. She was squinting while trying to keep her eyes wide open... Angela almost spit out the sip she had just taken.

"We'll need to work on it. Until then... don't ever do that again."

***

They had danced, laughed, talked, drunk and drunk some more. They were both sitting on the curb in front of the bar, enjoying a little bit of fresh air.

"I can't believe how wasted I already am. It's not even 1 am," Angela whined.

Brennan wasn't listening.

"I can't believe Booth made other plans on my birthday."

She hadn't meant to say it out loud. She was pretty sure she was only thinking it, but Angela turned to her and put a hand on her shoulder and said,

"He never goes out. He's probably in his apartment watching TV."

Brennan spoke again. Or slurred.

"He probably went out with Jerry. And he's probably having sex."

Angela's head was spinning.

"Who's Jerry? And why would Booth be having sex with him?"

Brennan frowned and looked at her friend. Everything was in slow motion.

"No. Jerry is Booth's friend. And he wants him to go out. And have sex. Because he is turning into a priest."

"A priest?"

"And he's probably having sex with a tall..." Brennan raised her hand as high as she could to show Angela how tall that woman would be. "... skinny blond with long legs. In a skirt."

"Yeah, he does like his blonds."

"I don't like blonds."

"Me neither."

They were both reflecting, imagining what Booth was doing. Before Brennan could sigh, Angela had an idea.

"We should call him," she said, all giddy, like it was the most fun idea ever.

"To say what?"

"To say nothing! Just to interrupt whatever he's doing."

There was absolutely no logic to it, but Brennan thought it was a brilliant idea.

"Give me your phone," she said, excitedly.

Angela obeyed and handed her her cell.

"What's the code you enter to block caller ID?"

"Uhm... *67."

Brennan punched in the phone number and put the phone against her ear. As soon as she heard it ring, she panicked and threw the phone back at Angela.

"You do it!" she said.

Angela screamed a little, surprised. And threw her back the phone.

"What?! No! _You_ do it!"

"No!"

"_Hello?"_ they both heard through the phone lying on Brennan's lap.

She instantly pushed it off of her and looked at Angela, eyes widened.

"Oh ! Hang up!" she whispered. "Hang up!"

Angela fumbled with the phone. And pressed 'End'.

"Why did we do that?" Brennan asked.

"I don't know." She wracked her brain to find something that would explain their action. Booze.

"I just don't understand. It's my birthday. We were supposed to eat Thai food, argue over the validity of fortune cookies and drink bear."

"So you had plans with him and he ditched you? I will kill him."

"We didn't make plans. But we always do that. It's our tradition." Her nose was starting to sting and her eyes were getting blurry. She was about to cry.

If Angela wondered how drunk Brennan was, she didn't anymore.

"Are you crying?" she verified.

"No! It's my allergies."

"You don't have allergies," she pointed out.

But Brennan avoided the tears by getting angry.

"It's my birthday," she repeated. "If anyone should be having sex, it's me!"

"You want me to find you someone in there?" Angela joked.

"Okay," Brennan agreed.

Angela grew serious.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Okay. I think it's time we go home."

"Okay," Brennan agreed again.

For what seemed like forever, Angela dug through her purse.

"Do you have cash?" she asked.

"Why?"

"To pay for a cab."

"Oh!" Brennan remembered. She grabbed Angela by the shoulders to grab her attention. And to steady herself. "You told me to remind you that you hid a 20 in your jeans back pocket for a taxi."

"Right. Do you have cash?"

"Where's the 20?"

"We drank it 30 minutes ago."

"Oh."

"Do you have cash?" Angela asked for the third time, faintly aware she was repeating herself.

"I left my wallet in my purse. In my car. You said you would pay for everything, so I left it there."

"Ok. Give me your keys."

"I left my keys in my purse. In my car."

They looked at each other and laughed at how drunk the other was.

"We could walk," Brennan proposed.

They tried to get up at the same time, pushing on the other to help themselves... and fell back on the curb.

"Or not," Angela realized.

"We could call Hodgins. He wouldn't mind picking you up," Brennan suggested.

"Or we could call Booth. He wouldn't mind picking you up."

Brennan took her cell phone out of her pocket and asked,

"What's Hodgins' phone number?"

Angela opened up her own phone and looked through the directory.

Brennan had typed in every number Angela said before she realized it.

"That's Booth's number!"

"You're welcome," Angela replied, making no sense whatsoever.

"Hello?" a raspy, deep male voice answered.

Brennan tried not to sound drunk or panicked. It was only Booth.

"Hi!" she said, cheerful. "Here's Angela." She through the phone at her friend, who unexpectedly caught it.

"Hi, Booth. Sorry to disturb you like this... Is this a bad time?"

Brennan held her breath, waiting for his answer, which she never heard. Angela apologized.

"What did he say?" she whispered loudly. She tugged on her friend's sleeve. "Ange. Is he having sex?"

Angela tried not to laugh as she kindly asked him to help them out.

"Angela!" Brennan tried, louder.

But Angela had already hung up.

"Bren, I honestly have never seen you like this."

"Like what? Drunk?"

"Acting like a 14 year-old."

"I'm not acting like a 14 year-old. What did he say?"

Angela laughed again.

"He'll be here in 20."

***

Booth pulled the car right in front of the bar. He thought he would have to search the establishment from top to bottom to find them, but they were sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for him. Brennan looked asleep, her head on Angela's shoulder. A sad sight, really. He smiled.

"You had fun, I take it," he said, opening the back door.

"Shhh!" Angela warned him as if his voice could wake her up.

"Is she ok?" he said, concerned.

"She'll be fine..."

After they set Brennan, still asleep, in the backseat, Angela sat in front.

"You sure she's ok?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"She doesn't seem fine to me," he pressed on.

"Well, then, you don't know her very well."

"You're kidding, right?"

Angela didn't know where that came from. Maybe she was mad at him. She had seen how hurt Brennan was by the fact that Booth had broken their tradition. She was sick of seeing them run around in circle. It really made her physically ill. Or make it was just the alcohol.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

Booth would have slammed on the breaks if the car hadn't been still parked.

"What?! Why are you mean to me? You're never mean!"

"I'm sorry, Booth. But you deserve it."

_Shut up, Angie._

Booth started the car. He hoped they wouldn't get all the red lights. He had a feeling this ride was not going to be fun.

"You shouldn't be mean to someone who drops everything he was doing to come and pick you up when you need it..."

"Tell Blondie we're sorry," she spat out with a laugh.

"Blondie?"

"Wasn't that what you were doing before I called you?"

"What?!"

Ok, maybe she had gone too far. But who was he to have sex on Brennan's birthday?

"You're a weird drunk, Angela."

He decided not to let himself argue with her. He would just drive and shut up. She would apologize on Monday.

"I'm not the one who said it. That one was from her," Angela said, pointing in the back.

"She's asleep," he stated.

"She wasn't asleep all evening. She was drinking. She was devastated." _Ok, maybe not. But close enough._

"Why? What happened?" he asked, clearly worried.

"You forgot her birthday," she let out, praying this whole conversation would never get back to her friend. She turned around quickly to make sure Brennan was still fast asleep.

"I didn't forget!" Booth interjected. "I left her gift in her office."

"You usually spend the evening with her with Thai food and cookies and stuff. She was upset."

"I'm sorry!" he said. It was the first time in years he hadn't celebrated her birthday with her, and it killed him. But things changed. "I figured she would want to spend it with Cal this year."

"Oh, my God!" Angela almost yelled. "How out of it are you?" She turned to him, refraining from hitting him with her purse. "She's been broken up with Cal for weeks now!"

Stunned, Booth looked at Angela. He quickly looked back on the road ahead.

"She didn't tell me," he murmured. "I didn't know."

He should have felt sad for her, right? Why was he trying not to smile, then? Why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't he seen it? He was a trained special agent, for Heaven's sake.

Still wondering when, how and why they had broken up, he arrived at Angela's apartment. She got out and said,

"I'll apologize later for the way I spoke to you. For now, just make sure she takes 2 aspirins and a glass of water before she goes to bed."

"She only has Tylenol. Will it do?" he said. "See? I know her."

Angela smiled. That was a wicked smile.

"But _you _keep Aspirin. Her keys are locked in her car back at the club. She's all yours for the night."

And she slammed the door.

--------------

**PLEASE REVIEW :( even though I don't deserve it since I've been taking so long to update. **

**I know this chapter is shorter and it's not fair since I haven't posted in 3 weeks. But the reason is simple: that was NOT the end of the chapter I had planned. I hadn't planned for Brennan to leave her purse in the locked car. Now that she has to sleep at Booth's place... I have a longer chapter to write for you next. I hope you won't mind...**


	11. Dizzy Mess

**A.N.:**** I typed as fast as I could (even while at work… uhm…) since you reviewed like people who loved it :) I love you back!**

Chapter 11  
**Dizzy Mess**

Booth walked to the back of the car, opened the door and looked down at Brennan, who was sound asleep. He gently poked her arm.

"Bones…"

No reaction. She looked peaceful. Who the hell looks beautiful after drinking themselves to sleep? She did. He tried to shake her shoulder a little.

"Bones, wake up."

She mumbled or moaned. She wasn't going to wake up. He smiled and took her out of the car, careful not to bump her head on anything. One arm under her knees, the other wrapped around her back, he shut the door with his foot and looked at his apartment building. Why couldn't he have lived on the first floor? He secured his grip on her, which was difficult while holding his keys in one hand, and walked up the staircase. On the midway up, he sensed the skin of her face pressing onto his neck. She was snuggling. He tried to ignore the chills in his body to concentrate on reaching his floor… but he dropped his keys and they ended up a couple of stairs bellow. He paused, cursed quietly, and located them a few feet away from him. There was no way he could go back to get them while holding Brennan. Once in front of his apartment door, he tried to wake her up again. She would have to stand or sit and wait for him while he went back for his keys.

"Bones…"

"Mmm."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt her fingers dug through his hair.

_Dear God!_

"Dr. Temperance Brennan is needed back on Earth…" he whispered near her ear.

"Mmm. Wha…t?"

He chuckled.

"Bones? You awake?"

"Booth?"

Where was she? Why was she in his arms? Was she hurt? Was she dying? She felt like she was dying.

"You ok?" he asked, careful not to speak too loudly and wake everyone in the building.

"I don't know."

She looked around, confused and a little dizzy.

"I'm gonna put you down, ok?" he warned her.

"Thanks for carrying me. But you could have woken me up."

"Of course, why didn't I try?" he kidded.

She was on her feet now. She wasn't too steady, but at least she was standing.

"I dropped my keys in the stairs. I'll be right back, ok?"

She didn't want him to go anywhere. She wanted him to hug her again.

"You don't need your keys. You have your credit card."

It took him a couple of seconds or so to understand what she was saying, and by the time he started laughing, she had taken his wallet out of his pocket.

She opened it. There was so much stuff in there, how was she supposed to know which card would open the door? She forgot what she was looking for when she saw a condom, hidden inside a compartment where you usually put photos. She took it out.

"Huh," she said, holding it up. "It's not used!"

His cheeks were burning red.

"Why would I keep a used condom in my wallet?" he asked.

He tried to take it back, but she was shifting on her feet a little, swaying to the alcohol, and he was scared to tip her over if he tried too hard.

"Give it back…" he pleaded.

"You should throw it out," she suggested.

_Why? Because you know I don't have sex at all? That I didn't have sex in… Shit._

"It expired in February 2008…" she let out. Then she heard her own words… and started laughing uncontrollably.

"It's real funny," he groaned.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, trying to stop laughing, which made her crack up even more.

"Shhh, you'll wake the neighbors."

"I'm drunk," she stated through her hands, clapped onto her mouth.

"Yes, you are. Now come on, let me go get my keys."

He was back before she knew he was gone. As soon as she set foot in the apartment, she took a step back and bumped into his hard chest.

"That's not my apartment," she realized.

Booth laughed and pushed her forward. "You're at my place. You locked your keys in your car, remember?"

"Right…"

He set his keys on the table by the door.

"I'll be right back," he said, heading to the bathroom to get Aspirin.

When he came back with the pills and a glass of water, she hadn't moved at all.

"Here you go."

"I don't have a headache," she told him, taking the medicine in one hand and the glass in the other.

"Don't argue with me," he said.

She obeyed and handed him back the empty glass. When he came back from the kitchen, she was gone.

"Bones?"

He found her sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to take off her shoes. Knowing she wouldn't ask for help, he kneeled in front of her and took over. One hand on her calf, he smoothly slipped one shoe off. She didn't complain and held up the other leg. He looked up at her. She was staring at him. Intensely. Then her face got weird.

"What are you doing? Are you gonna be sick?" he asked.

"I'm smiling," she explained, trying even harder.

"You're not smiling."

She shook her head.

"No! With my eyes!" she exclaimed.

Booth laughed.

"Oook, Tyra."

"I'm Bones."

"I know who you are," he softly let out. He was still holding her ankle.

Unable to break eye contact, Brennan felt a compression inside her chest. Her breath was stuck there.

"Booth? Are you scared?" she murmured.

"Of you? At the moment, a little, yeah."

"No! About Sweets and the meeting with the Man and… the possibility of us breaking up."

Her choice of words made his heart sink. She was worried. He put his palms on her thighs, just above her knees and his thumbs slowly swayed back and forth.

Her thighs were burning. Her face too. Her heart was racing. She looked down at his hands, wondering how that simple touch could stimulate such a response. But she shouldn't have looked at his fingers, because he got all self conscious and got up, unknowingly leaving her with a weird sensation of loss.

"Maybe we should corroborate with Sweets," she proposed.

"You mean _cooperate._"

"That's what I said."

He smiled.

"Yeah, we should," he agreed. "So… From now on, we do as he says without complaining?"

"Just until we're cleared. Then we can complain."

"Yeah."

She bit down on her lip. The thing when you're drunk is that, when you feel the urge to say something, you can't stop yourself even though you know you should keep quiet.

"Because… I need you," she said. She looked up, waiting for him to turn to her. When he did, she didn't look away. But she explained herself.

"Because… you know… I can't get a warrant or get a conviction on my own."

He put on the smirk he often had, that smirk which always told her when he had read through her. He sat on the mattress. Very close to her. She babbled on.

"And you need me, too."

"Yes, I do," he confirmed, turning his head to her. The three inches separating their faces seemed really shorter than that. The air got thicker. They should have been used to it, by now, but they still got extremely nervous every time that tension floated in. Brennan exhaled through the nerves.

"You need me because you can't read markers on a bone," she sounded relaxed and nonchalant, but she was holding the fabric of the comforter tightly in her fist.

"Right," he distractedly answered. His gaze caressed her face. He couldn't take advantage of her. She was way too drunk. He couldn't make the first move. But if _she_ did, he would allow himself to make the second. _Kiss me._

When her eyes dropped to his lips, she parted hers and took a shaky breath. _Kiss me._ She heard herself beg inwardly and it scared her. If he had wanted to kiss her, he would have done so by now. She repressed a cry of frustration and looked away.

"I don't see why Sweets would severe our partnership. We obviously are well equipped to keep a professional… professionalism."

_Well said._

"I'm tired," she let out, trying to excuse her less than stellar drunken vocabulary.

Booth got up, pulled the covers for her.

"Here," he said.

"Thanks for letting me stay here tonight." She got under the blankets and, although her body was still screaming for him to join her, she instantly dozed off.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. His lips stayed on her skin a little too long, but she didn't know.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday," he whispered before shutting the door behind him. _Parker's bedroom it is._

***

When she woke up, she couldn't open her eyes. Her head wasn't pounding, but she felt heavy. Heavy, but also floating, like if she were stuck on a raft in the middle of a storm. Her mouth was dry and pasty. She managed to sit up, eyelids still glued together. Maybe she had been hit by a bus. Maybe she had just woken up from major surgery.

"Good morning!" Booth's chipper voice startled her.

Her eyes flew open, but she shut them again, blinded by the morning light. She tentatively tried to look again and spotted him in the doorway, holding a glass of water. She vaguely remembered why he was there. She was at his place. Like in slow motion, her thoughts cleared up. She cautiously took a deep breath, wondering if she was going to throw up, and realized she was not.

"Hi," she croaked before clearing her throat.

He walked up to her and handed her the glass. She took it and raised it to thank him. She would need a minute before she could speak again. She gulped it down and gave it back to him.

"I left a towel out of you in the bathroom, if you want to take a shower," he said.

She nodded, closing her eyes and massaged her forehead. She would never drink like that again. Damn Angela. Damn birthday. Damn Booth, so… good looking and happy this morning. She probably looked the way she felt: like crap. This was embarrassing. She never intended for him to see her that way. She wished he would just leave her to die.

"I'll uhm…" She cleared her throat again and tried to speak up. "Thanks."

"No problem."

He finally left. She thought she saw him sneer at her, but she couldn't be certain. As soon as she felt ready, she got up and paused to make sure the room wouldn't spin. And she quickly locked herself in the bathroom.

She took the longest shower ever and it helped majorly. She felt way better; not as intelligent– good thing she wasn't working today- but better. She wiped the steam off the mirror and examined her face. Her twenties were definitely behind her, but at least she didn't look dead anymore. She pinched her cheeks to give her face some color and tried to brush her hair with her fingers since there was no comb in sight. It didn't really work. She opened the cabinet. Maybe there was one in there. Shave cream. Aftershave. Electric razor. Aspirin. Soap. Band-aids. Vitamins. Cough syrup. Cologne. She closed it back. _You can't, _she told herself. But her fingers found the handle again and pulled the cabinet door open. _Don't._ They reached for the Cologne bottle. _What do you think you're doing?_ She took the cap off and bit her lips together before bringing it to her nose. As soon as she whiffed it, her heart skipped a beat. _You're an idiot._ She put it back in place, making sure it was in the exact same position as before, and shut the door. _He's your partner. You're in danger of losing him for kissing him back. You've gotta stop this right now._ Confusion. Anger. Shame. She wondered when she had started feeling that way. It wasn't new, but she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. Knowing when would surely have helped her understand why. _Move on._

She got out of the bathroom, shaking off her hair to help it dry. The entire apartment was filled a delicious aroma. Her nose followed the vanilla scent and she ended up in the kitchen. Booth was setting a second plate on the table. French toasts, cottage cheese and strawberries. She smiled.

"You didn't have to do this," she said.

He poured two cups of coffee and pulled her a chair.

"I felt like cooking, that's all."

She sat down. It looked really, really good. Though she was in no way hungry, she would make sure he didn't know. This was nice.

"And I thought you wouldn't feel like eating out," he added.

He sat on the other side of the table. He took one of the slices of bacon he had kept for him and handed it to her.

"Want some?" he asked, knowing too well the face she was going to make.

And there it was. Her nose crinkled and her lips curled up.

"I'll pass," she simply said.

"The best cure for hangovers is greasy food." And he put the entire slice in his mouth, eyes shut in delight. "Mmmm."

She smiled at his boyish attitude and put a strawberry in her mouth. After a couple of minutes of silence, she swallowed a sip of coffee and spoke up, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that last night."

"I'm not!" he said, giddy. "You were funny!"

"How so?"

"You blew up a condom like a balloon."

Wide-eyed, mouth open, she went to deny it, but realized she didn't remember much of last night. She tried anyway.

"I did not," she objected, uncertain.

"You did!" he laughed. "Remember? You took it out of my wallet, said it was expired…" he dragged on, trying to jug her memory.

She did remember that, but she had not… Or had she?

She looked petrified and he burst out laughing.

"I'm kidding," he confessed. "But you were so wasted, it could have happened."

She relaxed a little and took another bite. That would have been incredibly stupid and uncharacteristic of her. _Much like prank calling him at 1 a.m.,_ she recalled, embarrassed.

"This is really good."

"It's Parker's favorite."

"I thought he was a bacon man, like his daddy."

"Bacon is normal, French toast is special."

He had made her a special breakfast? She tried not to blush.

"So! Had a good time, last night?" he asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"As much as I recall, yes."

"Did… uhm… Cal join you?" he said, nonchalant, just like he had rehearsed in his head. He wanted to check, just to see if she would tell him they were not together and hadn't been in weeks.

She focused on her strawberries. Why was he talking about Cal?

"… No."

She begged him inwardly to change the subject. If he found out she wasn't dating Cal anymore, that she hadn't told him, she knew it would turn into a big deal.

"Why not?" he continued. "Was he on another business trip?"

She couldn't confirm nor deny it; she didn't want to flat out lie to him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. She got up to refill her cup of coffee. Once her back turned to him, she shut her eyes. She wasn't going to get out of this one, she knew that much. She quickly tried to understand herself: Why hadn't she told him about her breakup? All the reasons she came up with sounded ridiculous to her, and they would to him, too.

"You don't know?" he repeated.

"Can we talk about something else?" she asked, walking back to the table.

"Sure. Why didn't you tell me you broke up with Cal?"

_Busted._

"He broke up with me," she rectified.

He should have felt bad, but he was just angry with her. He tilted his head in a _come-on-now_ type of way. She sighed.

"Who told you?" she wanted to know.

"That's not important. I'd just like to know why _you_ didn't tell me."

She pushed her plate away from her. She was done pretending to be hungry.

"Look, I'm sorry your ego got bruised, but I don't feel well, and I don't want to talk about it. Can you please just drop it and drive me to my car?"

"My ego?! Bones, you're… Gah! Why won't you just answer me?"

"Because it's none of your business!" _And because everything in my life has you stamped all over it! Can't I have just one thing that doesn't have anything to do with you? I used to be my own person._

"I'm not asking the details of the breakup! I don't even care who dumped whom or why or when. I just would like to know why you didn't trust me enough to tell me about it."

"It has nothing to do with trust!"

"Of course it does!"

"Booth, it's not…" She shut her eyes and tried to think. Her head was now killing her. "Please. Can we do this later?"

"Whatever."

He got up and grabbed his keys.

"I thought you wanted to get back to your car. Let's go!"

He didn't wait for her and left. She stayed still a few seconds. As painful as this was, it was less mortifying than to tell him the truth. Even the silent treatment he gave her during the car ride to the bar was bearable.

Once there, she saw her purse on the backseat and checked to see if her car doors really were locked. They were. She took out her cell phone, ignoring Booth. She needed a locksmith or something.

Booth opened his trunk and took a long and flat metal tool.

She saw him approaching her car with it before she could dial the directory assistance number.

"What's that?" she asked, concerned.

"A Slim Jim."

"What's it for?"

She put herself between him and the car. He was not going to get that thing near her beautiful convertible.

"I'm gonna use it to unlock the door."

"No, you're not."

He tried to push her aside.

"Bones, come on. I've done this a hundred times."

"You're telling me that was in your FBI training manual?"

He sighed.

"I used to steal my dad's pick-up truck all the time."

"Yes, well, this is a brand new car. I doubt your obsolete and rusty tool there is gonna do the trick."

"If you let me try, I'm sure I'll…"

She didn't let him finish.

"Booth, I said no."

_Unbelievable!_ Pissed, he walked back to his trunk, threw in the Slim Jim and slammed it back shut.

"Fine! You wanna pay for a locksmith, go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you."

"My insurance will cover it," she said.

"Yes, of course. I'm gonna go finish my breakfast in peace while you spend your day waiting for the professionals." He got into his car and slid the passenger window down so she could hear him. "And, by the way, next time you need help at 1 a.m., feel free to call someone else."

And he drove off. She watched his car until it disappeared, far ahead. Then, she leaned on the hood of her vehicle, cell phone in hand. She felt bad. She was about ready to cry, but she didn't let the tears flow out. She swallowed them. He had until Monday to cool down and forgive her. And she knew he would. Right?

***

On Monday morning, she arrived at work with a sensation of dread. They had another session with Sweets, and she had no idea if Booth was still upset with her. She didn't wonder for long.

When she walked into the lab, she saw everyone standing on the platform. Booth was there, too, laughing with Cam. She swiped her card in and went up to join them.

"Hi, sweetie," Angela greeted her. "You still hungover?"

She glimpsed at Booth for an indication on his mood, but as soon as their eyes met, he looked away. She decided to let it go and answered her friend.

"I'm good."

"How was the sleepover?" Hodgins asked.

Booth and Brennan both looked at Hodgins, wondering how he even knew, but Angela smacked him on the arm and they got their answer.

"Booth makes excellent French toasts," she said, glimpsing at him. He was still avoiding her eyes. _Ok, so complimenting him won't work._

Cam sensed there was something wrong between them. She tried to move things along.

"Don't you have a meeting with Sweets in a few minutes?" she asked them.

"Yes," Booth said. "Another mandatory waste of time. How lovely."

Everyone could see he was sulking. They all looked at each other, wondering what the hell had happened. Brennan turned to Booth, but before she could open her mouth, he was leaving the platform and going out the door. She wondered for a second if she had to run after him or drive herself there. She looked at Angela, a surprised and confused look on her face.

"Go!" her friend hushed.

And she went.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Hodgins asked around.

"You think they finally slept together?" Cam verified.

"If they did, they would be in a better mood, I hope," Angela quipped.

***

Sweets was already waiting for them when they arrived.

"Good morning!" he almost cheered.

Following Booth's lead, she sat down on the couch. Far away from him.

"Did you open my present?" the young doctor inquired, hopeful.

"Not yet," she admitted.

"It's alright. It's nothing big. I don't even…"

"Can we get started?" Booth cut him short.

Brennan stared at the carpet. She hadn't grasped until now how angry he still was. She felt worse than ever.

"Wow, ok. Uhm…" Sweets tried to gather his thoughts quickly. Booth had always been intimidating, but he had never seen him so harsh. He shook his head to get in the game. The exercise he had in store for them would have to wait a little. There was clearly something wrong between them.

"Did you two…" _Slept together, perhaps?_

"We're fine," Booth answered.

Brennan turned to him to see if he was telling the truth. He was not. She clenched her fists. His grumpiness was eating at her.

"Ok," Sweets started, "I suggest you get all the negative energy out in the open. Say what you feel right when you're feeling it, ok? It will help avoid build-ups."

Brennan sighed and decided to go first.

"I'm feeling quite angry at the moment."

"And I'm pissed," Booth let out.

"Good!" Sweets raised his arms. Finally! They were participating. "Good! Let it out! Why are you angry?"

Brennan was about to try and verbalize her aversion to Booth's attitude, but her partner went first.

"Because Bones lied to me."

"What?!" she burst out. "I _never_ lied to you!"

"Ever heard of a lie by omission?" He looked straight at her for the first time since Saturday.

She blinked. "You are completely over reacting."

The argument was heating up. Sweets wondered what he was doing there. His eyes swept from him to her and to him again and again.

"Over reacting? For weeks you led me to believe you were dating that guy when he was already old news!"

"Why would you care if I'm dating someone or not?!"

"I _don't_ care! I don't! I just care that you are honest with me. I hate feeling like an idiot."

"How is this making you feel like an idiot?"

"I don't understand why…"

"And _I_ don't understand how it is relevant to you. We don't tell each other everything."

"Well, I thought we were. My mistake." He turned away, arms crossed over his chest.

"When's the last time you talked to me about your dates? Huh? Never, that's when." Then she went for the stab. "Or maybe that's why your condoms are past their expiration date, but that's not my problem." She turned away, too, folding her arms together.

Sweets eyes got so wide at her mentioning his condoms that his eyeballs got dry.

Booth snorted, shaking his head. _I give up._ She was so stubborn, there was no dealing with her.

The silence that followed was loaded. Even Sweets, the professional therapist, had no idea how to defuse them.

Brennan didn't know –and didn't want to learn- psychology, but she knew damn well this evaluation was not going to help. If the FBI decided to judge them on this moment, they were done. She felt a twinge of panic inside. She turned to Sweets.

"Can we have a minute?" she quietly asked. Her voice was so soft and sad, the empathic Sweets felt like crying. Still staggered by it all, he simply nodded and left his own office.

"Why did you make him leave? This session is going to last forever. We've got work to do."

"Yes, we've got work to do. But do you still want to work with me?"

"Of course," he mumbled.

_Well, that sounded convincing._

She waited until he looked at her.

"No, think about it. Are you sure?" she continued. "Because this is your chance if you want him to reassign me to another agent."

"What are you talking about? This is just a little bump in the road. We're stronger than one fight."

"But we need a good evaluation from Sweets. We need to…"

"Corroborate," he remembered her saying. He finally smiled faintly, turned up the charm.

"You mean _cooperate_."

"That's what I said."

Booth took his time and gazed at her face until she looked away. She was right; he was acting like an idiot. So what if she wanted him to think she was dating someone? So what if she wanted him to think she was even more off limits than she really was? They had a partnership to save.

Brennan didn't do this often, but she promised herself she would tell him the truth soon. As soon as she felt she was ready to look like an imbecile. Not today. But soon.

"Now, can you smile?" she asked. And he did his best to give her the hugest fake teethed smile ever. She laughed. "Good. Don't move, I'll go get the boy."

When she came back with the doctor, the atmosphere was much lighter. Sweets decided to ignore their outburst for now and to forget his planned exercise. He would go with the flow.

"Today, we're gonna learn to read body language to detect lies."

"Aw, come on, now!" Booth couldn't help but interject. Brennan stiffened on the couch as he continued. "I've had those types of classes in Quantico."

"Booth!" Brennan hushed him.

He ignored her. "Plus, I don't need you to teach me. I'm a natural. I always know when I'm being lied to."

She turned to him. She thought they had an understanding. No whining, no complaining until they were out of trouble. As soon as their eyes met, he winked at her and she instantly relaxed. He was putting on a show for Sweets. She hid a smile by pinching her lips together and looked back at the psychologist.

"I think I'm getting better, too. Booth taught me some tricks over the years. A high pitched tone of voice is a good indicator. The lack of eye contact can be one, too. And…"

"Ok, I get it," Sweets said. "You're experts. Then, I'll give you your assignment for today and you can leave early, how does that sound?"

_Assignment?_

The partners didn't need to look at each other to respond in perfect synchronization.

"Great," they answered in unison.

"Ok. So it's simple..."

What the hell was he gonna make them do? Sweets had no idea. He had to improvise. _Let's see... Uhm... Right!_

_"_You have to be completely honest with each other for the whole day. So no lies until midnight. Not even the smallest one."

"It's 9:15 a.m.," Brennan said.

Sweets failed to see the point.

"So?"

"So, it's not even 15 hours until midnight. That's not a whole day."

"Are you two planning to spend the night together to make it a full 24?"

"What?! No!"

"No! I'm just saying…"

Sweets held back a smirk. They loved making them squirm.

"I suggest you take this opportunity to talk, exchange and learn about each other. Try to notice every time you wouldn't normally be completely, 100% honest. Alright?"

"Easy."

"Sure."

"Great," Sweets concluded.

Neither of them moved a muscle. They were trying not to look at the other.

"That's all. You can leave now."

They both got up without a word or a nod and walked out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind them, they froze and breathed out.

"Well…" Brennan looked up at him.

"Does he think we spend all of our time lying to each other?"

"Sure looks like it."

She pressed the elevator button.

"Well, it's gonna be an easy assignment," he said.

The elevator door opened and she went inside. Booth stood outside, waiting for her to agree.

"We've got nothing to hide, right?" he insisted.

She started to nod, but realized almost instantly she was about to commit her first lie of the day. So she smiled instead and pressed the button to shut the doors.

"Whoa! What's that look mean?! Bones!"

The doors closed and, alone, she went down.

--------------

**TBC…**

**Next chapter? There's a birthday gift from Booth in Brennan's office that she hasn't seen yet. We get revelations from Brennan. Revelations from Booth. And maybe some action. If you're nice. And if you think they are ready.**


	12. What Lies Ahead

**A.N.**** My biggest wish is that you love this chapter (and let me know) because I had so much fun writing it that I spent the week on it (-including 2 days with a 100F fever), thinking about what you would think of it…**

Chapter 12  
**What Lies Ahead**

They were laughing about something when they entered the Jeffersonian. Angela and Hodgins, who were not supposed to be playing cards while on the job, went to hide the deck, but the partners didn't pay attention to them and headed straight to Brennan's office.

"Well, that's quite an attitude change," Hodgins pointed out to Angela.

"I guess Sweets is better than we give him credit for."

The glass door shut behind Booth as Brennan walked to her desk. There was Sweets' birthday gift right where she had left it on Friday and another gift bag next to it. She hadn't seen it before. She frowned and grabbed it.

"What's this?" she asked him, like he would know.

And as a matter of fact, he did. He shrugged a little and quipped, "Just a little something."

"From you?"

He nodded, but quickly got nervous.

"You don't have to open it now. Sweets looked like he really wanted you to open his."

"I'd rather see what you got me," she said with a smile. She carefully removed the paper from the bag. Inside, there was some kind of black fabric. She took it and unfolded it.

Booth almost cringed. _I should have gotten her something else._ But he heard her laugh and watched her look at it.

It was a simple black T-Shirt with a cartoon skull printed on it. She read what was written above it.

"Don't mess with me: I'm the bone lady."

"I know, it's stupid," he said. "I can get you something else."

"No!" she vehemently objected, squishing the shirt to her chest. "I love it!" Her smile couldn't have been bigger. "Thanks, Booth."

"That way, next time we get stuck in a motel, you'll have your own shirt to wear."

She looked down at it again before putting it back in the bag and realized she hadn't read his card. She picked it up, ready to laugh, as always, at the funny message in it.

He saw her open the envelope.

"You can read it later…"

But she wanted to read it now. Her smile softened and then she grew serious as she read his handwriting.

'_Thanks for being such a big part of my life. Happy Birthday, Bones. Your partner, Booth."_

It tugged something inside of her, and she tried not to lose her composure as she slid the card back into the envelope. Booth was still watching her.

"Your card isn't funny this year," she simply said.

"I'm evolving."

She finally looked up and hesitantly walked to stand right before him. She tasted his gaze a second before she spoke softly.

"So, you really do still want to work with me."

"Of course!" he reassured her. He let his fingers brush a string of hair off her beautiful face and added, "Don't you ever doubt that." He let his hand rest on her shoulder and leaned a little closer, just enough to make her heart race, but not enough to give him a heart attack. "You drive me crazy, but you make me a better person."

"Well, I don't know about that. You're already pretty amazing."

A smile crept on the corner of his lips. "Right back at you." He slid his hand down her arm. They broke eye contact, but didn't move. The skin of his hand against the back of hers. She stopped thinking and her fingers imperceptibly moved. She touched his hand so softly that he wasn't even sure it was happening. And he couldn't look at her to confirm because he was having difficulty breathing.

"Philly PD arrested our guy!" Cam shouted, excited, entering the office.

Brennan blushed, ashamed of her own hand, and folded her arms together.

"What?" Booth turned to Cam.

"Turner. Arrested for speeding. They ran a background check on him and saw we were looking for him. They're bringing him in now. They'll be here this afternoon!"

"That's amazing," Brennan said.

"Yeah, miracles do happen." He looked at her, still in shock. "We can finally interrogate him!" He held his fist up, waiting for Brennan to bump it with hers, as he had taught her. And she did, after only two seconds of frowning and staring at it.

"And we're going to kiss ass!" she added.

"_Kick_ ass, Bones."

"Oh. I thought that sounded inappropriate."

***

Booth left the suspect and met Sweets and Brennan in the adjacent room, on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"I've been on him for two hours. He's never gonna confess," Booth sighed, frustrated.

"He is very clever," Sweets stated. After Booth gave him a _you're-not-helping_ look, he explained his professional assessment in simple terms. "He was extremely careful not to leave anything behind that could link him to the crime scene, but we can clearly see he is nervous about something."

"I don't see it," Brennan said, taking a better look at Turner. That man was creeping her out.

"Of course he's nervous! He's in for questioning!"

"No, it's more than that. He's concerned that he forgot a detail. See how perfectly dressed he is? Perfect hair, perfect tie? Yet, he keeps checking himself out in the mirror. He…"

"Maybe he just likes himself," Booth mumbled.

"Would you trust me, for once?" Sweets let out. "I've seen those types of personalities before. The more confident they look, the less secure they are. He is, in fact, a terrified individual who lives for control. He can't even bear the thought of having messed something up. Probably because of a…"

Booth sighed again. "If you say something about him having abusive parents, I swear…" And buried his face in his hands for a second. He could not let this psychopath walk away with this. He knew in his heart that was their guy. They needed that freaking confession! He felt sick. He tried to breathe in the strength he needed to face him for another round. He hated his job right now.

Sitting on the table, Brennan turned around and looked at the dirt bag again. Weeks of going crazy over the lack of evidence, nights and nights of dreaming about those little girls, about their families, the days of self doubt, seeing Booth like this… Enough was enough. She jumped up on her feet.

"Excuse me," she let out before going out the door.

"Where is she…" Booth almost laughed. He had never seen Brennan storm out during an interrogation before. She loved those. What had gotten into her? Was she sick?

"Oh no…" Sweets' face went white. Booth followed his gaze and his heart stopped. _No way._

"She can't… She can't do that!" Booth panicked.

"Oh, God," Sweets freaked out loud.

They saw Brennan sit down in front of the suspect and clasp her hands together.

She was not an agent. If this case, which was doomed anyway, went down the drain with her at the reins, he would lose his job. They would never work together again. She would never be able to work with the FBI for as long as she lived or even in her next life. Booth held onto the table. He could not collapse.

Brennan had never been that nervous before. But she wouldn't show it. She would fake it until she made it. She let the bastard speak first.

"I didn't know a speeding ticket could get me in so much trouble," he said with a smirk.

She smiled back.

"Cut the crap, will you?" she bluntly said.

"Oooh. Feisty."

"What agent Booth didn't tell you, is that he doesn't want you to say anything. The law obligates him to question you, but he is more than happy with your uncooperative attitude."

"What is she doing?" Sweets whispered even though they could not hear them behind the glass.

Booth just stared and listened, petrified, as she continued.

"See, he believes in the death penalty. He loves it, actually. I don't. I think it's barbaric."

She had gotten his attention and she continued before she lost it.

"And we don't need anything from you. We have all the evidence we need."

"You have nothing," the suspect said.

She ignored him.

"You declined your right to an attorney because you thought it would make you look stronger, but you're an idiot. Any lawyer would tell you that the only thing keeping you from the death penalty, in your situation, is a confession."

Turner laughed and her hands started shaking. She hid them under the table as he spoke with a sly smile.

"There's no capital punishment in West Virginia," he chuckled.

She tilted her head.

"That's where a lawyer comes in handy. You don't know the law very well, do you? There's this little thing called a Uniform Criminal Extradition Act. Very simple. You will be returned to the state where the crime was committed from the state you are currently in. And I'm sure you remember Delaware. Lovely state. Lots of trees, crappy motels, capital punishment for first-degree murders with at least one aggravating circumstance…"

She saw it. The moment where Turner shifted on his chair. And she thought she heard a faint uncertainty in his voice as he said, "Where's your evidence, baby?"

She held on to her fake smile as her heart started thumping. She had no evidence. She didn't look at the magic mirror for help because she knew that would make her look weak. She was stuck.

There was a knock on the door, just one, before it opened. Booth entered.

"Booth," she tried to object. She couldn't lose this case. She couldn't go away before pinning that murderer to the wall.

He said nothing and handed her a videotape. Stunned, she took it and watched him leave without a word.

Booth came back to the observation room, massaging his neck. He prayed to God she would get it.

Brennan looked down at the tape. It was labelled "Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge." She recognized Booth's hurried handwriting. She could bring out the fake confidence card again.

She slowly set the tape onto the table and slid it towards Turner. Her brained worked in overdrive.

"During hunting season, the National park closes half its auto-tour route for 14 days. And they turn on the surveillance cameras. I could put it in for you if you would like to see your performance. But I don't really feel like watching it again."

She had no idea what she was saying. Before gagging on lies, she decided to go with what she knew. What the bones of those four little girls had told her.

"From what I saw, you had no problem killing the first one. She didn't make a sound. She just went like this." She snapped her fingers. "Yeah. A little too fast perhaps for your taste since you went with a different approach with the second and third ones. And you made the fourth one watch. She was the smallest, so you wanted to keep her for dessert, right?"

She took the tape back. "You bonded her hands and feet together and tied her to that tree. And she struggled. She struggled so hard you heard her shoulders pop out of their socket. But she saw the whole thing. As did we. Not a very long movie. They all died within an hour."

Brennan couldn't even look him in the eye any longer. She felt like she was gonna throw up. She got up, about to give up.

"Who the hell puts cameras in trees?" he mumbled, holding his forehead.

She slowly turned back to him, to make sure she had heard correctly.

"Everything else was perfect," she heard him whisper.

Her heart was racing. Agape, she looked at the mirror and back at Turner. Had he just…

"Can I see the tape?"

She held it tightly.

"As soon as you sign a confession to get yourself out of death row, I'll see to it that you can watch the tape."

"Where do I sign?"

"Someone will bring you the documents in a minute." And she closed the door behind her.

It took a while for her to start breathing again. Her back against the cool wall, she tried to snap out of it.

"Oh, my God!" Sweets first said, as he came out the room. Booth followed.

"Bones, where did that come from?"

"I'm sorry…" she just whispered.

"Sorry for what? You nailed him!" Sweets argued.

She just looked up at Booth.

"I know I should have talked to you first, I just… I don't know."

"That was…"

_Stupid? Idiotic? Senseless? _she thought.

"… brilliant!" he said.

He hugged her so tightly she couldn't breathe and before she realized she could hug him back, he had let go.

"You're not mad?" she asked, dazzled.

"Mad? If I could give you my badge, I would," he said.

"What do you say we call the others and go out to dinner to celebrate?" Sweets proposed.

She just shook her head. It was spinning.

"I think I just… I just feel like going home," she said.

"You can't go home, you look like you're about to slip into shock," the psychologist pointed out.

"Come on, Bones. Aren't you happy?"

"I'm… I have no idea what just happened."

"Let's get some dinner and I'll tell you what happened. We can even watch the interview on tape."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and walked her out the FBI building. He felt like singing. But he didn't. Sweets did, though.

***

The music was so loud, she couldn't even hear it. She could only feel the throbbing of the base from the speakers in her whole body. She loved it.

"I hate this place!" Booth whined as loud as he could to cover the noise.

He couldn't believe Angela and Cam had dragged them there. Hodgins had other plans and Sweets had promised Daisy a quiet evening and didn't want to disappoint her. That's what he had said, anyway. But Booth knew he was probably just boosting his ego, taking all the credits for closing the case to get all the sweet love making he could from his girlfriend.

Angela and Cam were both dancing their butts off while he and Brennan had the mission to find them seats. As if they would ever find seats in this hell hole.

"What?!" Brennan yelled at him.

He had to shout into her ear for her to understand. "I said, I _hate_ this place!"

"You've been here before?" she asked.

"No!" he shook his head. _And I won't ever come back._

"Then how do you know you hate it?"

"Do you need to eat dog poop to know it's not something you'd like?"

"To be 100% sure, yes!"

Booth's face twisted in disgust. "Aw! Bones!"

"I'm not saying I would eat dog feces, I'm just saying, objecti…"

"Objectively speaking, I know. Let's find a quieter spot. I'm sick of yelling!"

"What?!"

He just grabbed her arm and led them far away from the speakers, away from the dance floor, away from everything… next to the bathrooms. _Great._

A few minutes later, they had found a table with 4 chairs and Brennan had gotten them drinks. A beautiful woman always got her drinks first. She handed him his glass before sitting down by his side. She probably had no idea what her dress was doing to him, otherwise she wouldn't have bent like this to set her purse under the table. That cleavage was illegal in most states. Or it should have been. He took a big sip, and before he knew it, his throat was on fire.

"Gah! What _is_ that?!"

"The bartender called it a 'Killer Special'. I thought it was appropriate," she smiled.

"I'd say."

"Do you like it?" she said, taking a sip without even wincing.

"Mmm," he nodded.

She squinted at him.

"You're not supposed to lie, remember?" She checked her watch. "Still have 2 hours to go."

"It's… tasty," he rectified, with a shiver.

She laughed, and he took another sip not to tell her she was adorable.

"Do you think they will ever sit down?" Booth asked her, pointing to Cam and Ange who were busting their best moves.

"We should join them," she said, pulling on his hand. "Come on!"

"What? No! It's… It's not safe to leave drinks unattended."

"Then bring it with you! Come on!" She pulled his hand again, insisting.

"You go." _I'll watch._

Her eyes pierced through him. She didn't need Angela to teach her to do anything with those big baby blues.

"I'm not drunk enough," he finally said, in all honesty.

She gave up and sat back down. She held his gaze and pushed his drink closer to him.

"Then drink up, Booth."

He laughed out loud.

"Did you just flirt with me?"

She frowned, in all innocence.

"No!"

She took a long sip, as he parroted her exact words from earlier. "You're not supposed to lie, remember?"

She rolled her eyes, set her glass back on the table. She put a hand above his knee and leaned forward.

"If I had flirted, you would know."

And left him there. She was going to dance.

***

"So…" Booth started after she had taken a few more sips of that disgusting blue mixture. He had switched to beer. More man-like, less expensive and less intoxicating.

"So?" She looked up, waiting for him to continue.

"Why exactly didn't you tell me Cal broke up with you?"

_There._

She closed her eyes. He was never going to let that go, was he? She carefully chose her words, put them aside in her mind, and tried something else first.

"You don't want to know, Booth."

"But I do. That's why I keep asking. And you have to tell…"

"The truth, I know. I wasn't going to lie."

She began by the simplest, less incriminating excuse.

"I didn't want your pity."

"My pity? Bones, I don't…"

"Yup. That's the look I was trying to avoid," she said, a finger to his face. "Every time I end up alone, I feel worse after I tell you."

He looked horrified by her answer. She put a hand on his for a quick second and tried to explain it better.

"It's not really your fault. You just… You always say the most beautiful things to me. You get all sweet and puppy eyed and…"

"Puppy eyed?!"

"… and you try to comfort me by telling me I'm extraordinary and that I will find someone one day… And maybe you do believe it's true, but I just couldn't hear it, this time."

He stayed quiet for a while.

"That's it?" he then asked.

_Crap._

"That's part of it," she confessed.

So there was more?

"Do you need another drink before you can tell me the whole deal?"

She sighed, half amused, half fed up.

"Sure."

It would give her some time to figure out if she really wanted to go there. Hers was not a simple truth to tell.

When he came back with another 'Killer Special', she was talking with Angela, who had finally decided to sit down. On his chair.

"Booth, come on and shake your thing with me!" Cam shouted through the crowd, not too far away.

He gave Brennan her beverage and followed his ex to the dance floor.

Brennan couldn't believe it.

"What is it?" Angela asked, seeing how strange her friend looked.

"Nothing."

"Bren…"

"It's just…" She motioned her hand towards the dancing crowd. "I asked him to dance earlier and he refused, that's all."

_But, of course, sweetie. With you in that dress, he was probably feeling very stiff._ Good thing she hadn't drank too much yet. She still had her censors on.

"Honey," she said. "You doubting your woman power skills again?"

"What? No!" She laughed off.

"Yeah… Let me tell you something. With the girls out like that, you ask him to do anything and he will do it."

"What girls?" And she really did look around for them.

Angela raised an eyebrow and looked down at her cleavage.

"Oh!" She suddenly felt slightly embarrassed. "It's too much? I didn't think… Do I look like a…"

"You look gorgeous, sweetie. And he noticed," she winked, taking a sip from Brennan's glass.

"Who?"

"Argh! What _is _that?!"

Brennan laughed and took her drink back.

"That's mine."

"Yeah, and you can have it to yourself! Ewww!" She gulped down part of Booth's beer to rinse out the nasty burning sensation. "And speaking of what you can have to yourself…"

"What?" Brennan questioned.

Angela raised her chin up, telling her friend to look behind her. But she did, and there was Booth, who was coming back, blocking her view. She tried to look past him.

"I can't see anything," she told Angela.

"Yeah, I know, honey. I know." She got up, raising Booth's almost empty bottle. "I owe you one," she said to him. "I'll be back."

He took back his seat and his leg brushed against hers. He expected her to move, quickly but subtly, her leg to break contact, as she always did. She didn't. Trying not to concentrate on their lower bodies, he continued their previous conversation.

"You ready to tell me the other reason yet?"

And she crossed her legs the other way.

"It's embarrassing and quite stupid. I'm afraid the suspense you put into it made it a bigger deal that it should be."

"You're the one acting all mysterious. I'm just a truth seeker."

_You're a trouble seeker, mister._

"Fine. But you're not allowed to say anything."

He nodded as she locked eyes with him. She took a deep breath, which brought her chest up. He tried to stay down, down there.

"I kept it from you because while you thought I had a boyfriend, you…" She wondered for a moment if she would be able to tell him. She sighed out of frustration. "I liked the attention you were giving me."

Her heart stopped and she prayed he wouldn't talk, as promised. It was out now. There was no reason for her not to explain further.

"There were times when you… you looked jealous and I selfishly… childishly liked it. There."

_Jealous? I was not jealous!_ he wanted to yell. But she wasn't the only one who had an honesty assignment.

"Thank you," he said softly.

She frowned.

"For telling me." He knew that must have been extremely difficult for her. So he decided to give her a little something. "And I was jealous."

Her eyes shimmered in surprise and expectations, her lips parted.

But he took it back. "I've always wanted a rich boyfriend who buys me flat screens," he said. She hit him on the arm as he burst out in laughter.

"Ow! I'm sorry!"

"You better be," she said, trying not to laugh, too.

"Hey! What's with the violence here?" Cam arrived, all smiles.

"Booth's an idiot."

"Bones is mean to me."

"Where do we sit?" Angela asked, standing behind Cam, as she looked around for extra chairs.

The anthropologist looked, too. Someone had stolen them.

"There were two, right there," Booth said, puzzled.

"Well, here's an easy fix," Angela proposed. "You two get up, it's our turn to relax."

"But…"

Too late. Angela and Camille were pushing them towards the dance floor.

"Go! Have fun! Don't come back for a while, we need a drink."

"Or two."

Stranded together in the middle of the crowd, they looked like two awkward teenagers. Booth rubbed his neck.

"Can I be honest?"

"You have to," she pointed out.

"Right. I hate dancing to this kind of music."

"But you did with Cam," she said, unaware of how hurt she sounded.

"And I looked like a fool. Please don't force me to look like a fool," he begged her.

She smiled and started moving to the beat. Her short dress looked even shorter than it really was.

"You just have to move like you feel."

He couldn't move like he felt. If he did, they would need a bed. Or at least some privacy. He tried anyway, just to make her happy.

But she laughed at him and he stopped, with a groan of shame.

"Just… Don't think, Booth. You're good at that, usually."

"Geez, thanks," he mumbled.

"No!" She realized what it had sounded like. "I just mean you go with your gut most of the time. It's the same thing here. Just let go."

She took his hands and lifted them up above, moving her hips, but keeping a rather safe distance between them. Booth felt like a puppet, not graceful at all. He was wincing, judging himself.

"Come on!" she laughed.

He shook his head firmly, bringing their hands down. He slowly let go of her fingers and gently pulled on her waist.

"_That_'s how I dance," he let out. He brought her a little closer. Not enough for their bodies to grind against one another, but enough to brush, then and again. Electrifyingly exciting. She kept moving even when her heart skipped a beat, strangely fascinated with his shirt. She heard herself giggle as she looked up at his face.

Booth's stomach fluttered as her timid laugh reached his heart. She was really getting into it. He had to do something before she noticed how into it his whole body was, so he took her hand and made her spin. She ended up flat against his solid chest. They both lost their breath somewhere along the line.

"See? You can dance to anything," she said, just to break the silence that seemed louder than the music.

"I can't believe you don't need me anymore," he said. He seemed quite serious, even though he was smiling.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can interrogate and get a confession without me. You're all grown up."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not..."

In one sweet move, he pushed back the lock of hair that fell on her face and pulled her chin up.

"I was really proud today, Bones. And to be honest, when I saw you go in, I thought we were doomed."

She smiled. "I'll never do it again. I don't know how you manage not to throw up on those horrible human beings." She looked at her own hand as she put it over his heart. She thought she felt it beat as fast as hers. But it was probably only the reverberation of the speakers. "I was proud of you too, you know?"

He smirked. "What for?"

"For not barging in and cutting me short."

He forgot to respond. He wasn't even sure he had to. They just kept staring at the short distance separating their lips. They weren't even dancing anymore, merely swaying to their own tune.

Until some drunken idiot bumped into them and made them realize how close they had gotten. Booth was the first to out some more distance between them.

"Wanna go sit down?"

"Sure," she heard herself say. She followed him to their table. Cam and Angela had disappeared. But their chairs were still there.

She sat down first and played with the straw that had fell from her empty glass, wondering if he would dance with her again if she asked.

"Here you go, dear friends!" Angela yelped and startled them. She set a tray with 4 colorful shots on the table and added, "It's from the bartender, but I can't drink anymore since you appointed me designated driver." She turned around and disappeared again.

"What's that?" Brennan asked, picking one of the tiny plastic cups up. It almost looked like...

"Jell-O shots," Booth answered, taking one, too.

"Who drinks Jell-O?"

"Us, apparently." He held it up until she said cheers and they both swallowed it.

Brennan made a face and shuddered.

"You have no problem drinking the blue fire stuff, but you can't handle a little Jell-O?" Booth laughed.

"It's... the texture."

He kept his eyes on her face. She had seen that look many times over the years. Slow, intense, like he was trying to memorize every detail of her. She had always wanted to know. Tonight, she knew she would get a straight answer.

"What's that look mean?" she asked.

"What look?"

He wasn't doing it anymore.

"The one you give me sometimes."

"Could you be less specific?"

"It's a look you save just for me," she shyly admitted.

His lips parted like he was about to say something, but he just swept his eyes across her features.

"There! That one... What does it mean?"

"I'm just trying to figure you out."

She tilted her head. "You're probably the one who knows me the best."

"And yet, I had no idea you hated Jell-O," he said, handing her a second one.

"It really isn't that bad," she said after a long quiver. "Ok! Next question."

"Since when are we playing 20 questions? And isn't it _my_ turn?"

"No. I have a good one."

"Fine."

He smashed the little cups one by one, waiting for her to shoot.

"When's the last time you had sex?"

His eyes shut while she bit her lips not to laugh again.

"Bones..."

"What?" He really was uncomfortable. She gave up a little. "You really don't want to answer, do you?"

He shook his head.

"Ok... Then... When's the last time you saw a woman naked?" she smiled, knowing he would get the exact same reaction.

He did, but only for a second. Then he smirked.

"Less than a couple of weeks ago."

Her smile froze and her heart, too. Then she thought...

"Where? On TV?"

"No."

She never thought he would answer. She didn't know she really didn't want an answer.

"At the lab..." he dragged out.

She sat up straighter.

"Was she dead?" she guessed.

"Very much alive."

She sank a little into the chair and started playing with her mother's ring, but dared him with her eyes.

"Was it Cam?"

"Why would Cam be naked in the lab?"

"I don't know!" she laughed. "Who would ever get naked in the lab?"

He grinned and raised an eyebrow.

She frowned, thinking she was misreading him.

"Me?"

His gaze dropped to her breasts for a second before he looked to the floor. _Oh yes._

He nodded.

"Wh.. H.. huh?"

"You were changing. I..."

"Well, you could have said something!" She didn't know if this was supposed to be funny or embarrassing or arousing. She felt all three.

"You're one to talk! You saw me naked, first!"

She gasped. "I didn't spy on you! You're the one who got up and showed it... showed you... yourself to me!"

"Now, we're even."

"I'm sorry I asked."

"I bet."

They were both really trying to hide their flushed faces. But since they were on the subject...

"Are we still telling each other the truth?"

"I'd like to think we always do."

"Ok. I'm about to tell you something," he almost whispered.

"What?" she asked, folding her arms on the sticky table, and leaning forward.

"Something I really shouldn't be telling you."

_You really should shut up now, buddy._

"What?"

"And I'm only telling you because... I probably won't remember any of it in the morning."

She brought her face even closer to him. He was leaning her way too, now. She could feel her heart in her throat.

"What?"

He would not back out now. He took a deep breath and spat it out.

"When we first met, I thought for sure we would sleep together someday."

Her insides twisted and turned and tickled. Staring at his lips, stunned by his confession, she wished they had. She wished they had slept together already so she would stop incessantly wondering how it would be. She probably wouldn't feel that strong of an attraction for him if they had consummated the tension years ago. Though she didn't remember the tension being that... tense. She blinked, realizing he had just admitted he had once been physically attracted to her. This was then. This is now. Or...

"And now that you know me, you..." Her voice got lost and she mindlessly took one of the empty Jell-O cups between her fingers.

"I still think we will. Someday."

A heat wave swept her face. She opened and closed her mouth again, her blue eyes getting bluer.

"What did you say?" she faintly mouthed.

Had he shocked her? Was she mad?

"What did you hear?"

She felt stuck. Lost. So turned on.

"Do you..." she started.

What was she supposed to do now? Invite him over? Go for it? Press the ignore button? What did _he_ want her to do?

"Do you...?" he asked.

She was trying to figure out how to say yes without just saying yes because yes was just so... But she was hearing Cam's voice behind her and Booth had sat up straighter. He was still staring at her, though.

Angela put her hand on Brennan's shoulder.

"I'm ready to leave when you are, sweetie."

"Huh?" It took some time for her to tear her eyes from him, but she managed to glimpse at her friend.

"I said... Whoa! Are you ok?" Angela touched her forehead with the back of her hand. "You look feverish."

Brennan's flushed even more and pushed Angie's hand away.

"I'm fine." She cleared her throat, wondering if she should go with her gut and run the hell out of there or go with Booth's eyes on her and stay.

She sighed in silence. But then, like in slow motion, Booth handed her her purse, which was under the table.

_Oh._

She took it and their hands met on it. She tried to stop looking at him and got up.

Still overwhelmed, she followed Angela to the exit.

"Hang on," she told her. She went back to the table. Booth was playing with her straw. He seemed lost in his thoughts, which, she didn't know, were as confused and fast-paced as hers.

He saw her approach and sat up straight.

She could have lied -it was past midnight, after all- but she stammered the truth, instead. "I think. Too. That. We. Yes." She breathed out. "See you tomorrow."

And she ran out.

She should have stuck with a simple 'yes'.

---------------------

**TBC**

**So? Too much? Not enough? What?**


	13. The End of the Line

**A.N.:**** Ok. So I won't lie: I was stuck. Big time. The ending I had planned suddenly sucked. And I didn't know what to do because your support is so awesome, I didn't want to disappoint you. The real episodes are getting more and more amazing and I got scared you wouldn't like my story anymore. Well, I hope you like it. Next chapter probably will be the last, or the second-to-last, so if you've got any requests, suggestions, comments, ideas... Now's the time to send them my way! :) You might inspire me enough to postpone the inevitable "complete" status.**

Chapter 13  
**The End of the Line**

"I think Booth told me he wants to sleep with me," Brennan whispered to Angela who was slowing the car down to a full stop, one red light before her apartment.

Saying it out loud didn't help her come to grasp with what had just happened.

"What?!" her friend screeched. "When?!"

"Right before we left."

"And you _left_? Are you insane?!"

Brennan pointed in front of them.

"The light's green, Ange."

Angela started driving again.

"He said..."

Angela interrupted her vehemently. "No! No! No! No! Wait! Don't say anything yet!"

She turned onto Brennan's street. She waited until the car was parked to continue this oh-so-important conversation. She turned off the engine, undid her seatbelt and took her friend's hands.

"Ok, slowly explain to me what happened."

Brennan tried to think. "He said he was convinced we would sleep together someday, and asked me if I did, too."

"What did you say?"

She winced as she recalled, "Something that sounded like 'I... Uh... too... Uhm... think... bye.'"

"And what does that mean?"

"It was supposed to mean yes. I think."

Angela shook her head in disbelief. How sad was it that such an incredibly gifted and beautiful woman didn't have a clue how to go after what she wanted if it wasn't in a professional capacity?

"And what did he say?" she wanted to know.

"Nothing. You told me we were leaving, so we left."

"You're telling me this is my fault? You could be having sex with _Booth_ right now?"

"Well, I don't know about that. He said _someday_."

_And he handed me my purse. He wanted me to leave._

"Now I want to kill myself."

Brennan gave her an insisting look, head tilted.

"But I won't," she promised.

Brennan looked out the window.

"What do I do now?"

"Oh, please, honey, you go for it!"

"But I... maybe it was a joke," she rationalized. "I don't always understand his humor."

Angela grabbed her friend's chin and pulled it towards her.

"You realize you are in denial, right? You tell him you want him too, you show him you want him too and you tell him what you've just shown him. You can't be overly explicit with that man."

"I'll have to think about it," Brennan said, getting out of the car.

"Oh! No, no, no!" Angela rapidly objected. "You cannot think." She yelled at her friend as the passenger door slammed shut. "Don't think! You'll ruin everything!"

Too late, Brennan had disappeared into her building.

At least she had made some true progress. For the first time, Brennan hadn't denied wanting Booth. But the tribulations were far from over, she thought. She had a feeling those two would push each other around some more before accepting their fate.

***

Booth didn't bother turning on the lights in his apartment. He walked straight to his bedroom and sat on the mattress. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't believe he had told her he was convinced they would sleep together someday. It was idiotic. He only wanted to shock her to get the truth once and for all. She had been shocked alright. But she had said yes. She had, right? She couldn't take it back. He didn't really want to take it back either, but he didn't want to face the consequences of their words. Would she avoid him? Would she confront him? Would she... He knew her by heart. He just had no clue what to expect this time. Except a sleepless night, of course.

***

Pretending like things never happened didn't make them disappear. She knew that. She tried to focus on the dissertation she was proofreading. It shouldn't affect her so much that Booth had expressed some kind of sexual attraction towards her. She was obviously desirable. Most men thought so. _He didn't explicitly say he was attracted to you. He said he was convinced you two would sleep together. Like it was inevitable. He didn't say he wanted to._ She sighed. _Why is this so complex? Why can't I stop dissecting everything?_

"Hey! You busy?"

At the sound of his voice, her heart did a somersault and she dropped her red pen on the floor. She didn't blush, but it took every bit of strength she had not to look away when he grinned.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Fine. And yes, I'm busy." _Liar._

"Ok. I was just..." He gestured somewhere behind him, vaguely, not making any sense. "Uhm... There's some boring FBI function tonight and I thought... maybe, you'd wanna go. With me, I mean."

Booth could have sworn he was 15 all over again. That's precisely why he regretted telling her what he had told her last night. Normally, asking her to a work event didn't take so much courage. It didn't make him feel stupid. He usually never feared she'd say no. Now that the word "sex" was out there, somewhere between them, it made everything nerve wracking and it surely made the room temperature rise. He waited for her answer, looking casual, trying to hold off his panic attack.

She sat up straight and her voice got all... doctorish. There.

"Why would I want to go to a boring gathering?"

That's the Temperance Brennan he knew and... knew. That Bones didn't make him sweat so much. That Bones was cool. Coldish. Clinical. Logical. That one he knew how to deal with. The other one, the one that was starting to flirt back... The one whose shimmering blue eyes expressed surprise, fear and some deep expectations... The one who tried to make him laugh... The one who was slowly opening up, insecure and unsure... That other one scared him. Like he didn't want to break her. He didn't want to push her. With Doctor Brennan, he wasn't afraid to disappoint because he knew he would anyway. And her annoying –yet so endearing- habit of correcting him was always there to remind him of that. He was seeing less and less of her, though. She was letting the other Bones shine through. The fragile one. Only at times.

"Well, it will be less boring if you're there," he said with a shrug.

She pushed some papers around and turned her back to him to look for a book she didn't need at all.

"Ok. I'll go."

"Great!" _Relax, dude. _"I'll..." _And lower your voice register._ "...pick you up at 7?"

_Why would you pick her up? You never pick her up. You always meet there. This isn't a date._

He thought he saw her ask herself the same thing, so he said, "Or you can meet me there around 7:30. Same place as last year. At the..."

"I know where it is. I'll be there."

"Thanks."

_You _thanked_ her?! You, moron!!!_

The slightest frown appeared on her face.

"No problem."

He left before he could sink any deeper into embarrassment.

She watched him leave. He had asked her to go places plenty of times before. Yet, this time, it felt different. She was nervous. _Relax. It's not like this is a date. _She put the book she had just taken back on the shelf. _Well... if it looks like a date and quacks like a date... It's not. Stop it_. She would know if it were. She would.

Not.

***

There was one person in the Jeffersonian who knew the one side of Booth she didn't know, but she wasn't in her office. Brennan sat down and waited for Cam to come back. She only had to wait five minutes, but almost changed her mind a hundred times.

"Dr Brennan. Do you need something?" Cam asked, entering.

The anthropologist had planned to go in, ask her question, get her answer and get out. But she tried another approach. She had never been good at it, but Sweets had told her once that it was a good way to put the other person at ease. So...

"How's Michelle doing?" she asked, trying to sound concerned.

Cam's mind started racing.

"Why? Did the school call? Is she ok?" she blurted out, checking her desk for missed messages.

Something must be very wrong. Her colleague never mentioned things for no reason.

Confusion washed over Brennan.

"No... I was just..." _Yeah. That's why you don't make small talk. Ever. _"I thought it was a better topic than the weather, that's all."

Cam relaxed, but only for a second. Temperance Brennan always got to the point right away. This, here, meant something was seriously bothering her. She sat down.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, curious and a little disturbed. This was Angela's job, usually.

"I was hoping I could ask you for..." _Don't say 'advice'._ "I have a question."

"You need an advice?" Cam let out, dumbfounded.

"No! Just..." _Shit._ "... Information."

Seeing how uncomfortable Brennan was made Cam worry.

"Isn't Angela here this afternoon?"

"She is. Why?"

"You usually turn to her, not to me."

"Yes, well, she has never..." _Dated Booth._ "... You know him better than she does." _Real smooth, there._

Cam tried not to laugh out her astonishment.

"This is about Booth?" she clarified.

"Yes," Brennan admitted. She felt foolish. _So _foolish.

"Ok..."

This silence was excruciating, so Brennan jumped in to cut it short.

"How did you two... happen?"

Cam waited for Brennan to complete her sentence. _Happen to what?_ But Brennan was finished. She raised her eyebrows as she understood. _Oh! _HAPPEN. _Wow. This _is _serious._

"Uhm..."

Dr Brennan certainly didn't want her to get into the details. She tried to think back.

Twisting her mother's ring on her finger, Brennan bit her lips to stop the dozen of questions threatening to come out. _Who made the first move? Was it clear from the beginning? How soon after meeting did it happen? Did you two make love?_ No! That last one, she didn't want to know. Seriously.

"Well," Cam finally said. "I don't know. It just did."

_That wasn't helpful at all._ Brennan nodded anyway, trying to look like she understood, but she was disappointedly at a complete loss. As much as she wanted to know, she wasn't going to pry. Cam was her boss, after all. And Booth would probably want to kill her if he knew she was asking personal questions about him behind his back.

She got up.

"Ok. Thanks."

And she walked away, leaving Cam more stunned than ever. Why she even thought for a second this was a good idea was the final straw. There were no more doubts: she was crazy.

***

As she walked towards the noisy room, wondering if her dark teal dress was appropriate or if she should have stuck with the little black one, she allowed herself to think about _them_ one last time to clear her mind before meeting him inside.

It was simple, really. Booth and Cam had just happened. Easy. Just like that. It could only mean one thing: that if Booth and she hadn't already _happen_, they never would. It was not supposed to be complicated. People who want each other find each other. Brennan had never been afraid of words. Of honesty. If she wanted a straight answer, she would have to remember that and plainly ask him.

As soon as she set foot in the room, she ignored all the men's eyes on her –apparently, the dress was fine- and looked for him. Her stomach fluttered and caught the sound of his clear laugh in the back. She walked towards it, already smiling, and found him standing there, an elbow on the bar, leaning towards a familiar face. Perotta.

_You don't look bored to me,_ Brennan thought, feeling her smile stiffen a bit as she looked up to him.

"Bones! You remember Payton?"

_Payton? _As an anthropologist, she had encountered a myriad of names in hundreds of different languages, yet none of them had ever made her want to laugh. Until now. But she didn't.

"Agent Perotta, hi," she politely said instead. "Nice to see you again."

The blond agent smiled broadly, in a Payton-way, and said, "You know, everyone's talking about the two of you."

Brennan's first instinct was to look up at Booth. They hadn't even revisited the subject yet, and people were already talking?

"They are?" she let out.

"Of course! You really are the best team out there. Congratulations on closing your latest case, by the way."

"All the credit goes to Bones."

He put his arm around her naked shoulders and she suddenly felt really important. Agent Perotta raised an eyebrow at them and said,

"Well... whatever you two are doing, keep doing it. It works."

She smirked, took her drink and walked away. Brennan wondered if her face was as red as it felt.

"What does she think we're doing exactly?" she asked him, waiting for him to take his arm off of her, embarrassed, as usual. But he pulled her closer, squeezing her, before letting his hand drift down to the small of her back.

"Meh! Who cares," he said.

Slightly astonished, she just kept quiet while he asked her if she wanted something to drink.

"My alcohol quota has been filled for the month, I'm afraid. But I'll have some water."

Since the barman wasn't paying attention, Booth reached behind the bar, put some ice in a glass, poured water and added a lemon.

"Here you go. A fancy drink to go with that fancy dress."

Suddenly remembering her dress dilemma, she looked down at herself.

"Is it too much? I didn't..."

"You look beautiful."

Spoken in this low, soft and serious tone, his words reached deep inside of her. She felt a shiver tease the back of her neck.

_Ok. That's it. _

She grabbed his hand and headed for the exit. Surely, there was an empty hallway somewhere. She heard him ask her where she was going, what she was doing, she heard him chuckle and ask her to stop pulling so hard. She kept on walking. She wasn't going to let him do or say anything to stop her now. They were going to talk.

But leaving a room full of cops wasn't such an easy task. An agent she had never seen before planted himself in front of her. She let go of Booth's hand immediately.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Daniel."

"Hi," she replied, shaking his hand, hoping he would not drag this on.

"Can I just say, if you ever get tired of working with him, my name's on the list."

"What list?" she asked.

Booth interjected.

"Drop it, Dan."

But Dan held on.

"The list of agents who desperately want to work with you."

"Is there an actual list or...?" Brennan asked a sighing Booth.

"Oh yes, there is!" Dan said, excitedly. "You wouldn't believe the number of applicants they had for his position. I don't know why they picked him," he said pointing at Booth, "but I can't say it wasn't a good decision. I wished my partner and I had half the number of solved cases you two have."

"Keep wishing, pal," Booth let out.

As Daniel walked away, Brennan said,

"He just told you he admires you, why were so you mean to him?"

"He doesn't admire me, he was admiring you."

"So?"

"So... Nothing. He's just annoying."

Before he could ask her why she was so eager to get him away from the bar, another guy approached them. _If I had known I would spend the evening signing autographs, I would have brought a pen._ He sighed.

They spent another 20 minutes being told how great they were. Brennan had almost forgotten that she wanted to speak with him, but every time their eyes met, she remembered. She was about to start with 'we need to talk' when she heard Booth mumble,

"Crap!"

"What is it?"

He took her hand and quickly led her right outside the room.

"My boss," he said, discreetly peeking through the opened door.

"What about your boss?"

"He's here. He never comes to these things."

"It looks like he's looking for something," she observed.

Booth swiftly pulled on her shoulders and pinned her against a wall.

"Don't look! He'll see us. He's probably looking for me."

"What did you do?" she asked, her back still flat against the cold wall.

Booth realized he was still holding her upper arms. He slowly let go and answered her.

"Nothing. I don't think. But until our weekly therapy sessions are complete, I'd rather not run into him."

Brennan smirked. "I had never realized you were scared of your boss."

"I'm not scared. I'm being... prudent."

She laughed out loud and he automatically smiled, taking it in. When her laughter died down, he finally asked her,

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"What?"

He shifted on his feet and mindlessly played with his belt buckle.

"Earlier," he said. "You pulled me away. You wanted to talk to me."

It wasn't a question anymore. For a second, she wondered if it really was necessary to go there tonight. Maybe it could have waited a little longer. But as she took a deep breath, his Cologne tickled her heart, suddenly pounding. She realized she couldn't wait. This idea of Booth and her was becoming a distraction, she had to settle things.

She was still mute. He raised an eyebrow to get her to speak up.

She avoided his stare and looked at his tie, ignoring the urge to fix it. It was a little crooked. A little too sexy. _Sex. Right. Ask him._

"Do you want to sleep with me?" she dropped. She couldn't look him in the eye, but no matter where she looked – his shoulders, his hands, his feet- she felt the same pressing sensation in her chest.

"Right now?" he said before he could think.

"Yes," she retorted. But realizing what it sounded like, her chin jerked up and she looked at his stunned face. "No! Anytime. I mean, in _general._" _There. That wasn't so tough, was it?_

Booth didn't even blink; he was just trying to process. He should have been used to her bluntness by now, but he was in complete shock. His heart was throbbing in his throat. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to push her against the wall again. He wanted to.

"Well... Do _you_ want to sleep with me?" he deflected, aware and ashamed of being such a coward. She deserved the truth, but the truth wasn't going to help them.

She thought about it for the millionth time. In the past, she would have said yes without a shadow of hesitation, but right now, as she lost herself in his dark eyes, she froze. She didn't want to be the only one to say yes. She could easily imagine how embarrassed her prude partner would be if she confirmed her desire. _And by the way, I asked first._

"Could you just... answer me?" she pressed on, trapped in his gaze.

_Fine._ He let out the long breath he had been holding and his shoulders dropped slightly. He licked his dry lips as he searched her features for any indication that would prove to him she felt the same way. Slowly, he surrendered.

"Yes."

The silence that followed was deafening. The line he had drawn a hundred years ago had been pushed a little further.

Things were clear. The possibility was real now. _It could really happen,_ she thought. Now they really had to deal with the tension, right?

"Ok," she agreed.

"Ok?" he repeated, far from understanding what she meant.

"Ok. Yes."

_What the hell is she saying?! Oh, dear, dear God._

"Whoa!" he gasped. "Are you saying you..."

"We should get it over with," she said. She sounded different. She sounded like the Bones he had first met. The one for whom sex was just some common activity.

"No," he said, calmly.

"But you just said you wanted to!" she reminded him, wondering if she had been imagining the last five minutes.

"Well, yes," he agreed, lowering his voice, "but that's not... It's not that simple, Bones."

"Of course it is!" she refuted. "You're a man, I'm a woman, we are both adult and now aware of a mutual physical attraction. It would be normal, natural, and most beneficial to satisfy our..."

"Stop right there! Don't you quote the Discovery Channel to me right now," he warned her with an accusing finger.

He sounded mad. She didn't understand. She bit her lips together.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just sleep with her. He knew he would never be able to let it happen once and then just go back. He wanted everything. Everything or nothing. Nothing was better than not enough. But _she _was Dr Temperance Brennan. She had no idea their whole future was in her hands. He had no idea what she would do if she did know.

"Think about it for a second," he asked her. His voice was calm, but insistent.

_Think about it?! That's all I've been doing lately!_ She decided to humor him. She was painfully aware of his stare while she reflected. She could almost hear his voice from a few years ago. _There are certain people that you just can't sleep with. You can pretend that it's just sex, lie to yourself, say that it's all good. But there's too much at stake. Too much to lose._ She locked eyes with him. _We are the center. And the center must hold._

She felt defeated. She felt brainless.

"You're right," she confessed, her eyes dropping to her own hands. "I was just... checking. To... To clear the air, you know?"

It wasn't a lie, really.

"Yeah."

Well... This silence was one they had never experienced before. It was awkward and loaded. At least, they had talked about it, right? It was all good now. They knew where they stood, now. Right?

"I'm glad it's all..." he dragged on, trying to find the right word.

"Clear," she finished for him. "Yes. Me too."

She hesitated a second before she said, "But just to be clearer... It's never gonna happen. Right?"

"Right." _Wait! What?!_

"Because... we are the greatest team in there," she said with a weak laugh, pointing to the room they should never have left. "We have been told many, many times in the past hour. And we can't go changing something that's working so well."

"It wouldn't be a good idea."

"Definitely not."

They kept staring at one another, half waiting for the other to change their mind.

She remembered all this was fault. This agonizing moment was all on him. He was the one who had started it.

"Can I just ask you... Why did you tell me you were certain we would have sex one day?" she asked.

"I was drunk," he suggested.

She nodded slowly. She almost looked... sad. Before he could apologize, she said, "Next time, you should stick to water," and headed back inside.

He almost immediately went after her, but she was already talking with his boss. He cringed, wondering if she had done it on purpose, knowing he didn't want to talk to him. Too late.

"There you are!" the firm voice greeted him. A look at his partner, and he knew she didn't want to be there either.

"Hello, sir," he said, shaking his hand.

"I'm glad you finally wrapped this girl scout case."

"So are we, sir." _If you say 'sir' one more time, I swear..._

"Dr Sweet assured me you two don't need any more sessions with him," his boss said, sceptical.

"He did?" they both said at the same time. Neither of them had intended on sounding so surpised.

"You disagree?"

"No!"

"We're fine."

"I hope so. You might be my number one closers, but if things go sour, I won't hesitate to reassign you. There's a lot of people counting on you so it's all good as long as everyone knows their place."

Without further due, the man left them.

_There's a lot of people counting on you._

_I won't hesitate to reassign you._

_Too much to lose._

Brennan, who was looking down at the floor, felt as though she had been punched in the face. She knew the Director was right. He had just said what she had always thought. Yet, hearing it out loud had made her stomach hurt. She was feeling down. She looked around before turning to Booth.

"Do you mind if I leave?" she said.

_Aw man!_

"Is it because of what he said? About everyone knowing their place?"

She shook her head no, unable to speak.

"Because your place," he continued, "is where I am."

He saw her eyes flicker. The blue was lighter, shimmery. Were those tears?

She swallowed the large lump in her throat and wondered what the hell was wrong with her.

"Are you ok?" he asked. His concern touched her so profoundly, it annoyed her.

"I'm fine! I'm just..."

She felt like she hadn't been able to structure an intelligent sentence for quite some time. She couldn't recognize herself. She was getting on her own nerves. She had to get out of there.

"You're tired," he offered her, as an excuse.

"Yes."

Booth couldn't force her to stay. He couldn't force her to talk to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he verified.

She wanted to sound casual, to say 'sure!' in a detached yet chipper voice. She wanted to feel normal again. But she only nodded, hating the smile she was giving him.

***

She parked her car and loosened up her tight grip on the steering wheel, at last. She forced herself to breathe and as she exhaled, a single tear slid down her cheekbone. She held in her breath and furiously wiped the salted nonsense off of her face.

"You're being ridiculous," she told herself out loud.

She looked up, outside the window, still unsure she would get out of the car. She sniffled once, groaned of frustration and decided to go knock.

Angela opened the door and her heart sank. Brennan looked horribly upset. Her eyes were filled with tears she was refusing to let go.

"Your allergies again?" she softly whispered.

Brennan shook her head and another tear escaped. _Dammit!_

"I don't have allergies," she admitted, out of breath, out of voice.

Angela let her come in, trying not to cry. Trying not to pry. Once they both sat down in the kitchen, she asked her friend, "What happened? Why are you so sad?"

"I'm _not_ sad," Brennan quipped, feeling a dull stabbing pain behind her ribs. "I'm pissed!"

"You don't look pissed," Angela carefully argued.

"I'm very..." She breathed in so her voice wouldn't crack. "Very..." It cracked anyway. "Angry," she barely mouthed.

Why couldn't she stop those stupid tears from streaming down? She couldn't understand why she was being so emotional. For no reason. It wasn't like her at all to cry over a man. It wasn't like her to cry because a man had refused to sleep with her. Not that it happened so often. Or at all. She laughed as she thought she understood.

"It's just a bruised ego. I'm fine."

"Sure, you look super fine to me," Angela sarcastically agreed.

Brennan calmed down a little before she explained her weird attitude.

"My pride is hurt, that's all."

"Why?"

"It's my fault. I was too forward with him. I know how he is. I shouldn't even have mention it."

_Mention what? _Brennan didn't let Angela speak. She was explaining this to herself, too.

"What was I thinking, telling him we should have sex?"

Angela's eyes grew bigger and discreetly hid her mouth behind her hand, resting an elbow on the table. She let her continue.

"I know he doesn't really do casual sex. I mean, I'm sure he does sometimes. But he told me that wasn't his thing. He doesn't do the whole sex-without-emotion thing."

Brennan closed her mouth and looked at Angela, waiting for something. Angela's mind was numb. What was she supposed to say?

"Ok, I don't know what happened exactly, but... Did you say you asked Booth to have sex with you?"

"Yet, I knew he prefers to have sex while in a committed relationship."

"Then... Have a relationship! What's stopping you now?"

Brennan frowned at the thought, but kept her mouth shut.

"Are you telling me you can't see yourself with him?" _Because if you are, I will have wasted 4 years of my life waiting for no reason._

Brennan drew random patterns on the tabletop with her index finger.

"Even if I did, he clearly doesn't. I offered him sex and he said 'I'll pass'. When you want to be with someone, you want to _be_ with them, no? Anyway. We couldn't either way. When the romantic relationship would end, the whole team would be screwed."

"What makes you think it would end?"

Brennan snorted. "Relationships don't last forever, Ange. You know that better than anyone."

Offended, the artist sat up straight.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you've been hurt before. Really hurt."

There. That was the real reason right there. She was afraid of getting hurt. If she could cry over the loss of the possibility of them... how would she deal with the loss of them?

They would remain _them_ as long as they didn't change.

She loved _them._

She knew that much.

* * *

TBC...  
**Well, there you go. I hope you still think this is all in character. I know it was angsty. I know. Did you still like it? PLEASE tell me. **


	14. Stuck in Reverse

**A.N.**** Here you go. Because I wanted to give you a little something before you all start to abandon me!**

Chapter 14  
**Stuck in Reverse**

"But I've been planning the menu for weeks now!" Angela whined to Brennan. She handed her the digital copy of the 3D rendering so she could file it with all the other evidence.

"I just feel like all we've been doing lately is having drinks and dinners." _And drama._ "I love spending time with you all, but I'd rather be alone tonight," Brennan explained.

Angela turned off the computer screen and found her keys in her purse.

"Are you mad?" Brennan checked.

Angela was about to deny it, to reassure her friend. But she decided to be honest.

"Kind of. I've been looking forward to this evening for a really long time. I've cleaned up my apartment, bought food for a million people... I've even made vegetarian lasagna, which I hate, just for you."

Brennan did feel bad.

"Please, Brennan," Angela continued. "It'll only be like... 4 hours." She saw Brennan was starting to consider it, so she added another enticing fact. "Plus! Booth will be there..." she finished.

Brennan's face went blank and she wiped an imaginary stain from her skirt. Angela's jaw dropped.

"_That's_ why you don't want to come?"

"No..."

"It is! You don't want to see him."

Brennan sighed.

"Things are really weird between us right now."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know. He's acting all... strange."

"Are you sure you're not imagining things?" Angela tried.

"Maybe. But it's still uncomfortable."

"Then... I'll disinvite him!"

"You can't do that! He'll know it's because of me. Then he'll get even weirder."

Angela found the perfect thing to say. Maybe it wasn't right, maybe she should have let it go, but she really wanted her best friend to be there.

"And you think things will go back to normal when he realizes you're avoiding him?"

You could never go wrong with logic.

"Fine. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Vegetarian lasagna?"

"I thought you said..."

Angela's wicked smile tainted with a sparkle of shame interrupted her.

"I'll see you tonight, then," she concluded.

***

They had been through rough spots before. They would easily survive this tense situation. Brennan took a deep breath as she waited for Angela to open the door.

"Hi, sweetie." She greeted her with a kiss on the cheek before taking the lasagna from her hands. "Thanks for this."

Brennan took off her coat and hung it in the closet.

"When are the others getting here?" she asked.

"They're probably on their way. Except Booth."

Brennan fixed her eyes on Angela.

"You told him not to come?" she said, a little panicky.

"No, he called and said he couldn't make it."

Angela fled to the kitchen with Brennan at her heels.

"Why?" _Why are you disappointed?_

"He didn't say."

She watched as Angela put her homemade dish in the oven. She should have been relieved Booth had cancelled. She wouldn't have to deal with anything for now. Then why was she sighing inwardly, thinking this would be a long evening?

"Do you want some wine?" Angela proposed, pouring herself a glass.

"No, thanks. Maybe while we eat."

She washed her hands, ready to help prepping the lettuce, when they both heard a knock.

"Could you get the door?" Angela asked. "And if it's Sweets, tell him he can set his karaoke machine in the living room."

"You let him bring his karaoke machine?" Brennan verified.

"He wouldn't stop begging me."

_Good thing Booth isn't coming,_ she smiled, easily imagining how he would pester, cringe and sigh during the whole 3 minutes and a half of _The Lime in the Coconut._

Still smiling, she opened the door. Her heart sank a little. They had all arrived at the same time. Hodgins, Sweets, Cam... Booth really wasn't coming.

***

A few minutes later, Brennan was watching Hodgins go through a song list while Sweets was trying to untangle the wires behind the TV so he could figure out what was what.

"I have a great duet in mind for you and Angela," he told Hodgins.

"I'd like to see Booth sing a duet with you, Sweets," the bug man responded, almost laughing at the idea.

"Where's Booth, anyway?" Sweets asked, turning to Brennan for an answer.

She instantly frowned.

"Why would I know?"

"You always know where he is," Sweets commented.

"Yeah, you two are like... joined at the hip."

"I haven't seen you two argue in a while. Are you ok?" the psychologist asked.

Brennan snapped. "First we argue too much, now we don't argue enough? Which one is it?"

Hodgins' eyes widened. He had seen Brennan snippy before, but this time, he felt uncomfortable.

"I was kidding..." Sweets explained, surprised by her un-proportional reaction.

Appalled by her own attitude, she sighed and went back to the kitchen. Dinner was almost ready.

***

Brennan had just set the salad bowl in the middle of the table, beside the bread.

"Hi," she heard Booth's voice say right behind her.

She quickly spun around. Her heart was racing, but it was probably because he had startled her.

"I knocked, but no one answered."

"Hi," she let out, wondering what he was doing here, staggered by how happy she was to see him.

Angela came out from the kitchen, walked passed her, not fazed at all. She kissed him on the cheeks, took his coat and told him to grab a beer in the fridge. As soon as he did –without looking at his partner for more than a second- Angela went to put his coat on a hanger. Brennan lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Why aren't you surprised to see him?" she asked, suspicious. "You said he couldn't make it."

_I lied?_

"I meant to say he couldn't make it on time."

She wished Brennan could have seen the disappointment on her own face when she had told her so. She wished she could have seen the spark light up in her eyes when she had ultimately seen him. Then maybe she would understand.

Brennan was a little upset. Angry, even. She felt the exact same way when the psychologist played his twisted little games with them - it wasn't funny at all- but she let it go. She had enough on her mind already.

***

Booth took a sip of beer, trying to convince himself he wasn't hiding in the kitchen. She couldn't even look him in the eye. He took another sip. He heard laughs coming from the living room when Angela came in to check on dinner in the oven.

She shot a quick glance at his beverage.

"You sure you should be drinking?" she asked with a smirk. "Aren't you afraid of saying things you don't want to mean?"

Booth frowned before it hit him.

"She told you," he stated.

_What do you think?_ she asked him silently.

"And now she's ignoring me. She won't even talk to me," he said with a sad laugh.

"It takes two to talk..." she pointed out. "I don't see you trying either."

Lesson to be learned: Don't whine to a woman about her best friend. Just don't.

***

Things weren't so bad for the moment. She was sitting at the end of the table. Hodgins was on her right, Booth, on her left, but at least she wasn't bumping elbows with him every five seconds. The atmosphere was lighter than what she had expected it to be. Probably because, as Angela had suggested, it was all in her head. She was making the situation awkward for herself. While she realized all that, it was difficult to look him in the eye when all she could think about was to rip that damn sexy smile off his face and to feel his hands on her. She hadn't had sex in so long, she wasn't even sure she remembered what it was like. _And whose fault is that? _she asked herself, pushing a tomato around her plate with the tip of her fork. She looked at Booth out of the corner of her eye. _It's his fault. He's the one who put all these stupid ideas in your head. Ideas of transcendent reality, of the powerful and overwhelming, almost spiritual connection between two beings. And because of him, your hormones are taking over your brain._

"Can you pass the salt," she asked Hodgins. She didn't need the salt. She only wanted a distraction. To stop her heart from jumping out every time Booth's knee brushed against hers.

Hodgins reached for the salt shaker, but Booth got it first and handed it to her. They locked eyes for the first time since he had arrived. She barely held his gaze.

"Thanks," she said.

They kept looking at each other. The team provided them with a thick blanket of silence and stares. Until Hodgins, who deeply wanted to yell '_Get a room!'_ cleared his throat.

"You know what we need?" he told his coworkers. "We need a case. A good one."

"You realize you're saying you want someone to die, right?" Angela pointed out.

"I'm not wishing for someone to die, I'm hoping we will find someone soon who's already dead."

"Sure, let's talk about death while we eat," Booth cut them short.

***

They both wanted to talk. They both needed to say something, but they were stuck. They didn't know where to begin or where it would end. Things had changed. It wasn't concrete, but it was palpable. They couldn't go back, but they couldn't move forward either. It was painful. It was exhausting. It was stupid.

Maybe the others had some master plan in mind, or maybe it was just some cosmic joke, but the outcome was the same: they were in charge of doing the dishes. Alone. Together. In silence.

"So!" Booth desperately wanted to say something. Anything to spark a conversation, a normal chat, a cosy banter, anything to get them out of the emptiness for a second or two. But his mind was blank. He hung the dishtowel over his shoulder.

"Sweets brought his karaoke machine," she let out, out of nowhere.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, so relieved. Then, he laughed. "I told him next time I saw that thing, _he_ would never see it again..."

"What do you have in mind? I can help. We could... uhm..."

Booth felt a thrill of normalcy wash over him.

"Oh! We could _accidentally_ drop it on the floor?" he proposed, with an emphasized shrug.

"Or!" She took a step towards him, lowering her voice. "You could distract them while I cut a wire."

"Sounds good," he said with a smile. "But why would you help me? You love singing."

She turned away from him, drowning both her hands in the hot water, grabbing a plate.

"You don't have to be shy. We've all heard you before. You have a great voice," he reassured her.

"I'm not singing tonight." _Or ever again._

He frowned. "Why?" he asked, taking the clean plate she handed him.

"Because... I have a sore throat," she explained.

"Why would you lie over something this silly?"

She closed her eyes for a second.

"Because it _is_ silly. My reason. It's stupid."

He took a step forward and gently pushed on her elbow so she would have to turn to him. She did, head down, watching her hands as they dripped in the sink.

"Tell me," he begged.

After a sigh, a deep breath and a rolling of her eyes, she complied.

"The last time I sang in public... you died."

Taken aback, but sticking close to her, he searched for her eyes. But before she could look at him, she had to finish.

"And I know the chances of it occurring again are... pretty much nonexistent, but I really don't feel like reliving that moment. There. Happy?"

She looked up to him. He looked sad. She hadn't wanted to bring him down. If only she had been a good liar.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have told you I wasn't dead. I'm sorry."

She sighed. "No... I didn't say that so we would start with the apologies again. It's over. It's done. It's fine."

They finished the dishes in silence. Brennan drained the sink.

"So you won't sing because you don't want me to die again? That's sweet."

A look at his face told her he was mocking her. She tried to get rid of the lather from her hand. Booth took the dishtowel and grabbed her hands with it. He dried them, taking his time.

"You're becoming quite the irrational being, Dr Brennan," he said.

"Shut up," she laughed, taking the towel from him and slapping him with it.

They laughed again, of relief more than anything. They seemed to be back. Nothing could express the fear of making one wrong move that would ruin this. Booth grabbed a big bowl.

"Where does that go?" he asked, looking at the many, many cabinets around him.

"I'll ask Angela, hold on."

She threw him the towel and took the bowl to show her friend. But when she set foot outside the kitchen, she heard them all talking. About her. About him. About them. And she froze in place, curious, and listened.

"Booth, too. They're both acting weird," she heard Angela say.

"Do you think something happened?" Hodgins asked.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say they did it," Cam interfered.

"Maybe they did have sex. The lack of eye contact and physical interaction in front of us could merely be their way of covering it up, to avoid raising suspicion." Sweets dragged out.

"Your radar is off, Psych man," Angela said. "It's pretty clear they're just trying not to."

"But they will," Cam assured them.

"They have to. It's becoming difficult to breathe around them," Hodgins concluded.

Wide eyed, Brennan went back to the kitchen. She avoided looking at Booth. She opened the first cabinet she saw, the one under the sink, and put the bowl in it.

Booth frowned. "Angela puts her bowls with her cleaning supplies?" he said after peeking in to double check. "I'm never eating here again."

Brennan wondered if she had to warn him about the meeting taking place in the living room. She watched him hang the dishtowel on the stove door handle.

"You coming?" he said, heading out.

She grabbed his arm at the last possible second.

"Wait," she stopped him.

Booth's heart accelerated. "What?"

"You don't want to go in there yet."

"How come?"

She wondered how to tell him, and decided for a straight on approach.

"They're talking about us."

"What?"

"Yes. I heard them..."

He hated it when people talked about him, but he would have told her it was no big deal if something in her eyes hadn't told him there was more to it than that.

"You heard them say what, exactly?"

"I think we should talk to them," she suggested.

"Since when do you care what other people say about you?"

"Not about _me._ About _us._"

Booth was lost and confused. She clarified as best as she could.

"Half of them think we slept together. The other half thinks we will."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded, afraid of his reaction, but instead of getting furious, Booth sighed.

"We might as well have done it," he muttered, knocking the wind out of her.

Brennan stared at him, wondering what that meant, hoping he would stop toying with her.

"What do we do, now?" he asked, digging inside her with his eyes.

_Are you asking me..._

"What?" she simply said.

"You really think we should talk to them?"

But before she could respond, Sweets appeared.

"What's taking so long?" he asked.

Brennan turned to the doctor, folding her arms over her chest, biting her lips together. Booth scratched his head.

"Nothing," he said.

"We're coming," she said. One last look at Booth and she was out of the kitchen.

She sat on the empty two-place couch, painfully self-aware, trying to pretend she didn't know what they were all thinking.

Sweets came back, immediately followed by Booth. The psychologist was about to sit beside Brennan when Cam and Hodgins loudly let out fake coughs. Sweets understood instantly and sat elsewhere, pointing the spot beside Brennan to Booth. She looked down, rubbing the space between her nose and her upper lip, as her partner sat, aware all eyes were on them. Hodgins was trying not to chuckle, Sweets was examining them, Cam had the shadow of a smile on the corner of her lips and Angela raised an eyebrow.

_Aw, come on!_

"Ok! That's it!" Booth almost shouted. "Get a life, people!"

Stunned, Brennan looked at him as he thundered some more.

"We didn't sleep together and we won't! Understood? Now, take a minute to grieve and move on, ok? Please," he continued. "Unbelievable," he then mumbled, turning to her.

Sweets leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You know," he said carefully. "There's nothing in the FBI regulations prohibiting an agent and a consultant to have a..."

"Let it go," Angela warned him, a soothing hand on his back.

The psychologist sank in the couch. "I feel like my favorite TV show's been cancelled," he whispered to her.

Brennan turned to Booth, hesitantly, just to see if he was looking at her. He wasn't. Cam and he were staring at each other, like they were having a voiceless conversation. She felt jealous. She realized with a taste of regret that Booth was sitting far from her. Before all this sex talk, he would always sit close to her. So close, their legs would always touch. He would always put an arm behind her shoulders and they would smile at each other over anything. All of that was gone now. She had taken those tiny details for granted and now, there was nothing.

"Who wants to karaoke?" Hodgins asked, faking excitement to distract everyone.

Brennan got up, walked to the device and said, "I do."

Booth frowned, wondering how she could change her mind so quickly. After a few seconds, she said. "It's not working..."

The FBI agent realized what she was doing and tried to contain his smile. "Awww. Really?"

"It's not possible," Sweets contradicted her. "I set it up perfectly."

"Maybe it's broken," she said. She got out of his way, as he tried, in vain, to turn it on, and sat back next to Booth.

"I'm so sorry, guys," he apologized. "It really isn't working."

"What did you do?" Booth whispered in her ear.

She shivered and answered as quietly as he had asked. "I just unplugged it."

He smiled broadly, really proud. And he laid his arm on the back of the couch, over her shoulders.

There was still hope.

She smiled back.

Yes.

----------

TBC...

**Since I don't want this to end, I cut this one there. I'll post the next one very very soon. If you tell me you want me to. Yes, this is blackmail.**


	15. The Intervention

**A.N.:**** Thanks for all the amazing reviews!!! Over 40! You work well under blackmail, I have to say ;)**

** Take your time reading this one. It's the second to last...**

** There's a line in there taken from _The X-Files_. Let's see who's a fan.**

Chapter 15  
**The Intervention**

"Did he say why he wanted us to meet him? And why here?" Brennan asked Booth as he parked the SUV in front of the diner.

"He just asked if we could drop by, but it sounded important."

"Did you give him the crime scene photos? Maybe he got something off of them," she suggested.

Hodgins' wish for a dead body had been granted. A woman, early thirties, had been found, completely skinned, in a file cabinet of a dentist clinic. So far, they had identified her, but had found no connection to either of the two dentists or to any other employees.

"Maybe," he said, holding the restaurant door open for her. As soon as she past in front of him, he put his hand on her lower back, without thinking, and guided her –as if she needed help- to their table by the window, which Sweets had already high jacked.

"Hi, guys," he greeted them. "Thanks for meeting me."

Brennan smiled, Booth grunted, and they both sat down in front of him, next to each other.

"What was important enough to meet right away but not enough to meet in your office?" Booth asked, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually was.

Sweets took a deep breath to answer, but Brennan asked another question before he had a chance to.

"Did you find out something about the case?"

He turned to her.

"I didn't get a chance to look at the pictures, yet."

"Then what are we doing here?" Booth wondered.

"I thought you would be more receptive to what I have to say in a non-clinical environment."

Booth frowned. Brennan fidgeted. Sweets explained.

"Since you both seem to be comfortable here, I thought it would be an appropriate setting for a discussion."

"I thought we were done with the shrinking," Booth let out.

"You told the Director of the FBI we didn't need any more therapy. That we were fine," Brennan continued.

"Well, that was before."

"Before what?" the anthropologist asked, looking at Booth, afraid she already knew what this was about.

"Would you like a cup of coffee or..." _Receptive, my eye._ "No? Ok."

Booth rolled his eyes and sank into his seat, hoping the doc would just get on with it so he and his partner could go back to their investigation. But Brennan saw the young man bring his shoulders back and put his shrink face on. _Uh, oh !_

"It is my understanding that..."

"I do would like some coffee!" Brennan interjected.

Sweets nodded with a smile. She was trying sidetrack him, to delay the inevitable. It didn't matter. They would have this conversation today if it killed him.

"I'll be right back, then," he let out before heading to the counter to find the waitress.

"What are you doing, Bones? You want this to take all day?" Booth whispered, leaning in, a hand on her forearm.

"He offered us coffee. I wanted some. That's all."

Sweets came back quickly. Booth took his hand off of Brennan's arm, but it didn't go unnoticed by the trained eye of the psychologist.

"Here you go," he said, slowly putting the cup in front of Brennan.

She whispered a thank you, hoping Booth would ask for pie. She really didn't want to hear what the therapist had to say.

"So? What is it, Sweets?" Booth pressed on.

Brennan tightened her grip on the hot mug. Sweets looked so serious, she got nervous. She had to stop this silence from suffocating them all.

"Is the FBI splitting us up?" she dropped. Her heart was racing, her mind was spinning.

"What?!" Booth croaked, suddenly panicking. "Are you serious?" he said, looking from Brennan to Sweets to Brennan again.

"No! No!" Sweets vehemently denied. "It's nothing like that."

Brennan breathed with a little more ease. For a second there, she had foreseen her whole world collapse next to her.

"Listen," Sweets said, completely stern. "I know what's about to happen and I want to be there for you," he affirmed, looking at them both.

Booth snorted, a witty comeback all ready. He opened his mouth. "Wh..."

"Stop!" Sweets firmly ordered. Never had they seen him like this. In control and unwilling to buy their crap. "I don't want to hear one more deflection. No more jokes. No more pretend ignorance. Quite frankly, it's getting old."

The partners were frozen in place. They couldn't even blink. He continued.

"You can't play those cards anymore. You have to face it. Deal with this."

_With what? _Booth desperately wanted to say. But he knew what. He knew. And he was more than angry. This was none of his business. It was none of anyone's business but his. And hers.

Backed into a corner, Brennan and Booth exchanged a furtive glance. He had rarely seen Bones so uncomfortable. He had to say it, even if it sounded mean.

"And why would we discuss this with you?"

"I want to be there for you both," he simply said. And before Booth could argue, he added, "I don't want your partnership, your career or my career to suffer."

Brennan knew what the shrink was inferring, but she still needed confirmation.

"I don't understand..."

Sweets locked eyes with her.

"I know you say you will never sleep together," he explained, "but I need you to acknowledge the possibility and to promise me that if the urge..."

"I am _not_ discussing my urges with you, pal." That sounded aggressive, but Booth was far from caring.

Sweets kept on going. He was unstoppable.

"I just want to help."

Angst ridden and eager for this whole mess to be over with, an angry Booth said, "We don't need your help! We don't need anybody to stick their nose in this!"

Sweets had picked up on the fact that Dr Brennan was unusually quiet. She was simply looking at him again, very subdued. He tried to read her. For a second, he could have sworn she was sending an S.O.S. signal. But he had to be mistaken, he convinced himself.

Brennan bit her lips as her partner lashed out. She locked her arms over her chest and looked at the doctor, lips tightly sealed together. She wanted him to help. _She_ needed help. This situation couldn't last forever. She had to get out of it. But Booth would be really upset with her if he knew she was thinking of discussing him, discussing _them_, with Sweets. She would have to get herself out of this mess on her own.

"I know you're fine," Sweets concluded. "I just..." He raised his hand to shut Booth up. "Let me finish! Please. I need to know if the situation changes. You're both aware of the complications brought by a sexual relationship. If anything ever happens, you will need to tell me so we can adjust together."

"This is ridiculous," Booth mumbled, face in hands.

Brennan knew having sex with Booth would have an impact on their relationship, but up until now, she had no idea just thinking about the possibility would affect everyone around her so much. She needed to stop toying with the idea. She had to let it go. By the look on Sweets face, it was a matter of national security.

"That's all I needed to say," Sweets finished. And he waited, as he always did at the end of one of their sessions. "You can go catch a murderer. I will look at the photos and get back to you."

Booth crossed his arms over the table and leaned forward, intimidating.

_This is our diner. We're not leaving._

The shrink got the message, loud and clear.

Once outside, he let out a long, shaky breath, well aware he had almost wet himself.

In shock, they both stayed still, as the light jingle of the diner door bell faded out. Brennan's attention was focused on the cup handle. Booth was examining the napkin holder. She waited a minute before clumsily telling him,

"How can sex be so complicated before it even occurs?"

When Booth turned to her, she corrected her question.

"Not that it will. I mean, I know it won't. It's..."

"I know what you mean," he reassured her.

Booth was about to explode. He wished he was wired differently. He wished he could just forget about everything and give into this burning and dangerously alluring fire. He wished he could just go for it. He wished he didn't care how she felt. He wished he didn't feel anything more than lust.

"We should ignore him," he said. "Let's ignore all of them."

_Let's stick our heads in the sand and pretend the storm will pass._

"Good plan," she agreed. They returned the other's smile. And stared. A quiet second of heart thumping bliss. Until her cell phone delivered a text messaging sound. She looked down.

"It's from Angela," she said, getting up. "We should..."

"Yup."

***

Brennan was working on narrowing down the number of possible murder weapons when Angela discreetly looked around to make sure no one would hear their conversation.

"I meant to ask," she started, as if she had just remembered. "How are things with you and Booth? Is he still weird?"

"I think we're good," she lied, unwilling to think about this any more. "Sweets is worried about us, though. I don't know why. We are partners. Friends. I thought about it and... It wouldn't change much of anything between him and me. I mean, apart from adding a sexual element to our friendship, things would pretty much remain the same if we got together. We're together all the time, already. We don't need it." Foregoing sex didn't really matter; she would still have him. He was not going anywhere.

"True..." Angela lingered. _For now._ "But what happens when he meets someone he wants to start a family with, someone who's willing to weld their life with his? You think nothing will change between you two, then?"

Brennan froze as she waited for the painful sensation in her gut to weaken. She had never thought about it much. Booth had been single for so long... Or course he was there for her now. But she knew him. She knew the kind of man he was. He was the kind of man to shape his life around the people he loved. The kind of man who wanted a happy family. A wife. He wanted more than a partner. And he would find her eventually. What would she do, then? She suddenly felt sick. A passing thought. She had spent all those years unknowingly building something with Booth, something strong. But it wasn't enough. Humans need more. Booth deserved more. She should not have invested in them. Because in the end, once Booth found "the one", as he so naively would put it, what would she do? She'd be alone. Again. For good.

Angela saw Brennan had finally heard her. For real. She slowly stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. Comforting. Encouraging. She whispered, in a soothing voice, hoping this was the right time. Hoping her friend would stop running in circles.

"Go for it, Brennan. For your sake." _And all of ours._

The anthropologist stayed quiet for a while. Pondering. And for the first time, she _really_ considered it. Her stomach fluttered as her mind caught tiny glimpses of what could be. Foretastes of what ifs. Delicious. Petrifying. Her last thought took over. She looked at Angela.

"I don't want to ruin our relationship," she decided. Nothing was worth losing him. Nothing.

"What relationship?" Angela allowed herself to say. "Your work one or the one with all the staring contests, the awkward silences, and the unbearable tension?"

_The one we had. The bond that slipped away. I want _us_ back. _

***

"Anything new?" Booth asked, setting foot in Cam's autopsy room.

"Well, we know what she had for her last lunch," she said, holding the putrefied stomach. "But nothing helpful. Tox screen came back negative."

Booth would never get used to the horrible things he saw everyday in this lab. His stomach turned as Cam put the organ on the scale and took note of its weight.

"Thanks. Call me if you find anything," he said before heading back out.

"Not so fast," Cam said to make him stay. She walked up to him, taking off her gloves and dropping them in the trash can. "I'd like to talk to you about something."

Booth grimaced. "Can we talk somewhere else? This smell doesn't put me in a chatty mood."

"When are you ever chatty?" she laughed. "How about lunch?"

"Sure."

Cam knew him. He would be safe. There would be no mention of sex or Brennan in the same sentence.

"Let me just check with Bones about the murder weapon and I'm all yours."

He walked to her office and knocked on the doorframe.

"Hey, did you find what was used to kill him yet?" he asked straight away.

"No, but I'm getting close."

"Ok. Well... Cam wants to go out for lunch, so..."

Brennan stood up. Having lunch with Cam wouldn't have been her first choice, but she was starving.

"Ok. I'll ask Dr. Edison to finish up for me."

Surprised, Booth cringed at the misunderstanding.

"Uhm... I think she wants to talk to me. Alone."

Brennan blushed of embarrassment. She sat back down and tried to remain stoic.

"Sure. Ok. I can't really go anyway. It'll probably be faster if I do the identification myself. And I'm not hungry, so..."

_Ok. I think he got it. You can shut up now._

"I'll call you if I find anything," she concluded.

"Thanks, Bones."

He looked at her, holding in a sigh, as she started to type on the keyboard as fast as humanly possible. He turned around and met Cam in the hall.

Brennan slowly stopped typing and looked through the glass walls of her office. She saw Dr. Saroyan put a hand on Booth's back as they walked away.

As soon as she realized what she was doing, she closed her eyes and turned her head back to the computer. Her reaction was irrational. She wasn't a jealous person. Plus, there was nothing between Booth and Cam. They were friends. _Platonic friends._ Close friends_._ _Friends can have lunch._ _You two have lunch all the time._ _It's fine._ Disgusted with herself, she started working again. _The faster you find that weapon, the faster you can call him back here._ She sighed. _Stop it!_

***

Half an hour later, they had talked about everything but. Booth seemed distracted, as he often was lately. She could sense he was tired and that something –she knew what- was really bothering, torturing him. Cam decided it was time.

"Are you sure, you're ok?" she asked, giving him the look that said he couldn't hide anything from her.

"I'm great. Why?"

Cam set aside her plate and put her elbows on the table, joining her hands under her chin.

"It's obvious you are in love with her."

"With whom?"

The faint smile on her face told him she really did know. He couldn't disguise it anymore. He sighed. Relieved.

"So what? It happens."

Cam plainly laughed. Booth had never taken love lightly. She knew he wanted her to back off. She couldn't. He meant too much to her.

"You've loved her for... a _really_ long time. You used to feed on that feeling. It used to make you stronger. But now, you're just... miserable."

"You're worse than Sweets."

"I've known you forever. I've never seen you pine for a woman before. And it's not pretty."

"Come on, Camille... I'm not _pining._"

She didn't listen.

"Ever heard of the point of no return? You're there. Both of you."

Booth said nothing. He took his napkin and tore it into pieces. Cam continued.

"You want my opinion?"

Booth looked at her. _Do I have a choice?_

"She's never gonna tell you what you want to hear before you tell her how you feel."

Booth shook his head, exhausted. "She doesn't love me. I would know if she did."

Cam put a hand on his and locked eyes with him.

"Seeley, you're the only one that doesn't know."

***

"I don't want to push you," Angela told Brennan.

"Then don't..."

"But are you gonna go for it?"

Brennan was about to get angry with her best friend. She kept quiet and put all the work she had to bring home in her messenger bag.

"You know what you're doing?" Angela continued.

"I'm putting folders in my bag."

"You're both waiting for the other to make the first move. Just move, already!"

Startled by Angela's serious tone, Brennan couldn't help but look at her.

"Honey, I love you to death, but I don't want to talk to you until you give him a chance. Until you give yourself a chance."

Angela started to walk away. Her mind was set. She was going to keep her word.

"You're mad at me for something that's none of your business?" Brennan laughed out, panicking.

She would stop talking to her in a second. _After this._

"It _is_ my business! You're my best friend and your happiness is on the line, here."

_There's this line, and we can't cross it. You know what I'm saying__?_ Brennan snorted. How ironic.

"I don't need a man to be happy."

_Right after this._

"I agree. You don't need _a_ man. You want _that_ man."

Brennan tried to divert Angela's attention.

"I thought you weren't talking to me," she said.

"I'm serious. I'm done. Enough is enough."

She turned around, but quickly spun back.

"One more thing," she added.

Brennan raised an eyebrow. Angela could see that, while pretending not to care, her friend was paying attention. It was a good sign. Better than she had hoped.

"You would kill, you would... You would die for Booth. But you won't allow yourself to love him? Where's your precious logic now?" _Now, I'm done._

And Angela was out.

***

Brennan had tried to go to sleep at 8. Of course, it was way too early. But she thought while she was sleeping, her brain could get some rest. She stared at her alarm clock. 10h23. She tossed. She turned. Angela's words kept coming back, flooding in and drowning her. She finally gave up and sat back up, turning the bedside lamp on. She brought her thighs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her left cheek on her knee, she kept looking at the lists she had written down, waiting there on the bedside table for her final approbation. She sighed and took the first one. _Who lists Pros and Cons to decide the outcome of a relationship?_ She looked down at it._ What were you thinking? _The Cons column was longer, filled with excuses. _This doesn't mean anything._ _There's nothing objective in this. _She frowned when she noticed "We work together" was there twice. _You can't base your decision on a stupid list._ And a fist-made ball of Pros and Cons hit the wall in front of her.

This was not a decision she could make on her own, anyway. There were two people concerned, here. She told herself not to move. She told herself it was late. It could wait. But her body got up. It got dressed. She watched herself look at the reflection in the mirror. _What do you think you're doing?_ She tried to convince herself she wasn't schizophrenic. She took the second list, the one that mattered, and shoved it in her jeans pocket. She took her purse, grabbed her keys, hit the lights. She was on her way.

Tonight was the night. She refused to let the frantic thumping in her chest stop her. She could do this.

***

_You can do this,_ she repeated again in her head, as her knuckles met the door. _Do what?! What are you doing? What are you gonna say? You don't even have a plan!_ Too late. Her knocks had been heard. She could hear him on the other side.

She took a deep breath as the door opened.

"Dr. Brennan? What are you doing here?"

_Uh._

Why was her boss answering Booth's door?

"Hi. Cam. You..."

She looked around. Maybe this was a really vivid dream. Maybe she had fallen asleep at 8, as planned. Brennan was so taken aback, she couldn't even think. She couldn't even assume anything. She was just not expecting this. Her. There. Why? She frowned. Was this really what she didn't want to think it was? It sounded so... impossible.

"I'm sorry," Brennan said. "I didn't mean to... find you here. I didn't know."

Cam wondered why Brennan was so... weird. Then she realized what a huge misunderstanding this was.

"Oh! No! I'm watching Parker for a while. Booth is..." She couldn't tell her. It wasn't her place. "... out."

"Oh. Right. Good. I mean, that you..." She cleared her throat. "Ok. I'll... talk to him tomorrow, anyway."

***

Brennan remembered saying goodnight and she remembered getting in her car, but she had no idea how she had gotten home. Yet, there she was. Outside her apartment, still a little dazzled. She pulled the key out of the ignition and stepped out of her vehicle. Maybe this just wasn't a good time. _Booth would say this may be a sign._ But of course, it wasn't. Anyway, for what it was worth, she had something else to add to her list now. Something kind of concrete, even to a sceptic like her.

"Bones, there you are!"

She saw Booth grab onto the railing of her front steps to get up. He wiped his pants, shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled.

Under all the confusion, she swore she could feel the list burn a hole in her pocket.

"I was looking for you."

The fact that they both said it at the same time..._ That_ might have been a sign.

--------

TBC

**Please let me know you can review even when I don't threaten you! :) Next chapter's the last, there won't be a sequel, and I would love to hit 400 reviews!! :) THANKS!**


	16. The Confession Part 1

**A.N.****: The shortest of my chapters because it's part ONE of this story's finale. And I wanted to give it to you RIGHT NOW. Because you got me over 400 reviews!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Chapter 16  
**- Part 1 -**  
**The Confession**

Brennan played with her keychain, wondering why he had to smell so good past 11 at night.

"You were looking for me?" he repeated, a little surprised.

"I went to see you, but Cam said you were out." _Good thing, too. I had no idea what to say to you. I still don't. Please talk first._

Booth looked at Brennan who seemed to have a whole lot of interest for her keys at the moment. He wanted to make sure there was no misinterpretation.

"Michelle couldn't babysit and Cam offered, so..."

"Yeah, she mentioned she was watching Parker."

"Uhm..." Booth felt like a fool. It was late. The streetlight next to them wasn't working and it was getting cold. "You wanted to talk to me?" _No, you idiot. She went by your place to see Cam._

"Yes."

_Could you elaborate, please?_

"I... Angela's mad at me. She says she won't talk to me."

Booth quickly stopped her.

"You know how I feel about catfights."

"There were no cats," Brennan frowned.

"I won't get in the middle of two women fighting." _Except if I'm drunk and there's mud involved. _He never thought he would see the day where Hodgins' voice would seep through his brain.

"You already are in the middle," she let out, walking away. She reached the front door and opened it.

"What do you mean?" he asked, following her.

"The argument was about you. Well, about me. Or us."

"They can't stop meddling, can they?" he mumbled.

"But she got me thinking."

_Was thinking good or bad?_

He said nothing. She motioned for him to come in. They reached her apartment in silence and she turned on the lights before closing the door behind them.

"You can sit down," she said, pointing to the couch and dropping her keys on the small table by the entrance.

He sat on the armrest, and she stood in front of him. Far enough.

Brennan licked her lips. Her throat was as dry as it could be. Her hands started to shake, but she hid them in her jeans pocket. Her fingers touched the list.

"I went to your place," she said. She didn't have a speech. She didn't know what she would say. She just felt like she had to.

"You already said that," he said with a smile. She was nervous about something. He got nervous, too.

"I wanted to warn you."

She grabbed the piece of paper in her pocket with the tip of her fingers and pulled it out.

"I'm pretty sure I have all the symptoms," she went on, trying to steady her voice.

"Of swine flu?" he asked, half-joking, half-worried.

She laughed. And thanked him silently for allowing her to let out some nerves.

"No. It's... I made a list."

She unfolded it. Booth was watching her closely. _What is she doing?_

"You can... Stop me anytime if you hear something irrelevant. Let's just say I'm not an expert on the subject."

"Ok..." he agreed. He just had no idea what she was talking about. But that wasn't a first.

Her eyes scampered over the words. _I can't believe you're doing this. This is so stupid. He'll laugh and mock you. No he won't. You can do this._

"I miss you," she read, from the top, changing the handwritten _him_ to a more accurate _you._

Then she looked at him. First symptom was out, and he hadn't stopped her_._ He was still paying attention. She continued, half reading, half pretending to read when the words coming out of her mouth were too much to handle while looking into his eyes.

"I miss what we were not too long ago. And how easy it was." She looked at him again. "I know we can't go back," she stated, to make sure he didn't think she was deluded. "It's just a general... uhm... Ok. Uhm..."

She felt her heart hammering higher and higher in her chest, almost as if it were in her throat. She exhaled and tried to go back to the list. _Where was I? Right._

"You scare me," she said, quickly looking back at him to rectify the meaning. "Not in a _I'm-scared-of-you_ kind of way. More like..." Booth was frowning now. She really felt she was digging her grave. "You have a hold on me," she let out. "With one look, you make me nervous or happy or... With the right words, you could make me do anything for you. I don't know when or how, but it's like I gave you control over myself. So that's why I wrote _He scares me," _she explained, underlining the words with her index finger.

_Ok. Moving on._

Booth didn't even dare to breathe. Never in over 4 years had he ever seen her so vulnerable. It tore his heart out. He took in her beauty as she lost herself in her own words. Words she hardly ever used. Feelings. Raw, non-clinical, simple. Yet written down. A soft and barely noticeable smile sneaked onto his lips.

"I love how much I know you," she continued, her voice a little softer, yet still unsteady. "When I know something about you that someone doesn't, it makes me feel special." She went on, translating her handwriting into more understandable terms. "And you know me so well, I don't even know how you..." Her voice died out. She was out of breath. She let out a short pathetic laugh. She could see how ridiculous she was coming across. "I'm sorry. This doesn't make any sense. See?" she said, pointing and showing him a word he couldn't even read. "I'm repeating myself. _I'm scared._ Again."

Booth stood up slowly. He simply wanted to let her know she could relax. He needed to put his hands on her shoulders to soothe her. But she pushed him back down.

"No, wait. I'm almost done. Let me just..." She took a step back, almost stepping on her purse. "Oops! Ok. Here: When I come home from work, I can smell you on me. And I love it," she read, as fast as she could so he wouldn't interrupt her. She had to let it out. All of it.

Booth couldn't stop his smile from taking over his face. She was adorable.

Brennan saw Booth was starting to laugh. She chuckled, out of tension.

"I have no idea what I'm saying." She folded the list once, twice. Three times. "I don't know anything," she said. "What I know..." She gave him the list. He took it. She wrapped her hands around his wrist for a whole twenty seconds. "... is that I want you in my life." She knew her eyes were shining with tears. A shimmer of nervousness. A gleam of certainty. "More and more every day. I feel like you're a part of me now. And I don't know what to do."

There. All was said.

She took a step back.

"OH! And sometimes, when I see you, I get those butterflies you mentioned. But not all the time. So I don't know if it counts. But I think it does."

She stepped back again, nodding, and almost hit a bookshelf.

"PLUS!" she remembered out loud, raising her index finger. She hadn't had time to add this to the list. "I don't want you to have a serious girlfriend."

There. All was said. For real.

"OR a not-so-serious one either."

Why couldn't she stop the words from coming out, twirling with nonsense?

"So!" she recapped. "If I combine all of that," she said, pointing to the list he was now holding tightly to, "with this very..." She put her hands on her stomach. "... very strong sexual attraction towards you, I'm inclined to say that I... might be in love with you." She locked eyes with him and got in, deeper than she ever did. "If that's what it is," she specified, trying to get out. "I wouldn't know," she concluded, in all honesty, with a shrug.

There. The stupid line had been crossed. Let the sky fall down.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked, lightly, already heading to the kitchen, as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just done all the work for him. As if the case was finally closed.

But he said, "No." And he grabbed her hand before she could escape. And held it tightly.

Surprised by his low tone, startled to see him so close to her, she looked down at his hand, gently wrapped around hers, and saw he was still holding the list in the other.

"You can throw it out," she told him.

"And destroy all evidence? Not a chance."

His thumb caressed the back of her hand. She watched as she laced her fingers through his, amazed at how easy it was.

"What do we do now?" she asked, almost whispering.

They locked eyes.

"We can forget the whole thing if you want," she suggested, wondering why he wasn't saying anything.

He squinted.

"You can't take back what you said." He waved her list around before putting it in his back pocket. "I heard you. You love me."

The words resonated through her apartment.

"I didn't say that," she pointed out.

"But you do," he assured her. "You love me."

He could have repeated it over and over again.

Booth knew more about this stuff than she did. She trusted him.

"Do I?" she whispered, really asking.

He slowly let go of her hand and loosely wrapped his arms around her hips. He nodded with a cheeky smile.

"Good," she said. She rested her palms on his chest and tilted her chin up to examine his face.

The unbearable tension was still there. Even worse. But absolutely delightful.

As soon as her gaze slipped to his lips, he leaned in.

"Do you want to have sex?" she said out loud.

Booth burst out in laughter.

It wasn't a proposition. It was a simple question. Why was he laughing?

He rested his forehead on hers. _Good timing, Bones._

"What?" she laughed, too, unable not to.

He stood taller and tilted his head.

"Let me take you out first."

"A date?"

"That's the proper thing to do," he said.

"Tomorrow?" she almost begged. She didn't want them to wait. Didn't want him to have time to change his mind.

"I'll pick you up here at 7," he agreed, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"Good."

He trailed his hands down her arms and took her fingers between his.

She bit her lips before asking, "Are we really doing this?"

His smile told her what she wanted to know. She concluded, "We're finally doing this."

"I should go now," he said, letting go of one hand. _Otherwise, that first date will be in bed._

He opened the door before turning back to her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then."

She nodded. He stepped back and hit the doorframe.

Brennan chuckled as his face flushed.

"Bye."

One last of those new and improved staring game and he was gone.

She leaned on the door and sighed. She realized she was still smiling.

She replayed the whole deal in her head and realized he really hadn't said anything back. Not that it was necessary. But maybe he didn't feel the same way. Maybe tomorrow was a pity date. _No. Booth wouldn't do that._ If he couldn't refuse a gift from a stalker, how was he supposed to be able to let her, his partner, down? _You know the truth. This is real. You can feel it._ But she also felt... sick. Her stomach started hurting as she thought about the next day. She had never felt this way before a date. She glimpsed at the clock. Too late to call Angela. Maybe they had both read the symptoms wrong.

_Surely heartburn isn't a sign of blissful happiness. _

_What am I gonna wear?_

-------------

**TBC**

**If you find this cheesy, stupid, insane or moronic, I won't bother to make them see each other again. I won't bother with writing that awkward yet sweet first date –maybe first night. Or Angela's reaction. I just won't bother finishing it. So... yeah. Tell me the truth, ok?**


	17. The Conclusion Part 2

**A.N.:**** Well, here goes nothing. ****Ready slowly.**** It's the last one. ****Review carefully.**** It's the last one. Oh, and if you hate smut, you'll need to skip a few ****M rated paragraphs**** in there. Just saying. (Don't be shy to review. I won't judge that you like BB smut. I LOVE writing it. So. I'm the perv.)**

Chapter 16  
**- Part 2 -**  
**The Conclusion**

She had spent all morning trying not to think about the upcoming evening. It was no use. Every time she was in a room with Cam, she tried to better her skills of reading body language, but that didn't work either. She couldn't tell if Booth had told her about them. Cam had a knack for staying professional around her. Maybe she knew. Maybe not.

If Brennan were the type of person to count her blessings, she would have thanked God that Angela really wasn't speaking to her. She wanted to tell her everything, though, at the same time, she wanted to focus on the case. But for the first time in her life, she didn't feel like working. At all.

She was anxious to see him. She wondered if it would be awkward. If everyone would notice something was different. If things would _be_ different. How different.

Hodgins knocked on the glass wall of her office.

"Angela wanted me to tell you that the 3D rendering of the attack is complete. Booth's on his way."

"Thanks," she managed to say, as her heart dropped to her stomach. As soon as Hodgins left, she got up and let out a breath. _Calm down._

They were all around the Angelator, waiting for Booth to arrive. She kept checking behind her to see if he was there yet. No one seemed to notice.

"There he is!" Cam announced.

Brennan instantly looked at him. He locked eyes with her and she tried not to smile too broadly. She quickly looked away, putting her pretend focus on the table where the images Angela had created would appear in a matter of seconds.

Booth had never been so nervous or happy to see her. The look they had just exchanged, that private, knowing look went straight to his gut. He let out a "Let's see what you got, Angela," and stayed close to Brennan. Very close.

As the Angelator's first images came up, she felt the back of his hand brush against hers. She discreetly moved her fingers to touch it.

Angela's explanation of the sequence of events punctuated by Cam's and Hodgins' questions didn't even reach her ears. Nor his.

Booth was caressing her hand now. Under everyone's nose. And no one knew anything. This moment was pure perfection.

She let her fingers slowly trace lines in his palm. He could feel shivers down his spine.

Lost in the moment.

"Dr. Brennan?"

The second time Cam called out her name, she finally heard it. She instantly broke hand contact and played with her necklace instead. She looked at Angela, who was frowning at first, and caught the exact moment when she understood.

"Oh. My. God," the artist jerkily let out, just above a whisper.

Cam smiled, thrilled, but not wanting to show it, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked to the floor.

"Are you serious?!" Hodgins almost squealed.

"I don't even know what's going on," Dr. Edison said.

"Of course you don't," Hodgins stated.

Angela pulled Brennan away. She led her outside the room and pulled her arm all the way to her own office, where she let go and closed the door. She turned to Brennan.

"I have a feeling I can talk to you. Am I mistaken?"

"No," Brennan admitted, shyly smiling along her friend's overexcitement.

"Did you sleep with him?" she shrieked before putting a hand in front of her mouth.

"No. He wants to take me out, first."

"That's fair enough. I can't believe this. He finally came forward?"

Brennan shifted on her feet.

"No. I did."

"Way to go, sweetie! What did he say?"

Brennan was afraid to admit the truth. Maybe her best friend would see it as a bad sign. And she didn't want to ruin this. But she decided to say it anyway.

"Nothing, really."

But Angela didn't seem to care.

"I can't believe this is really happening! When's the big date?"

"Tonight." Brennan grew even more nervous.

_Can I come? _Angela wished. She squealed again.

"This is unbelievable! I'm so happy for you!"

Brennan stiffened a bit, squeezed in Angela's power hug.

"I'm not so sure about this. It's already affecting my work. I can't concentrate at all!"

Angela laughed giddily.

"Well, give it some time!" she said. "Your brain is used to being first, and now that your heart's in charge, it'll have to learn to come in second."

This was absolute nonsense, but Brennan didn't mind. She had other concerns to voice.

"I don't know. Usually before a date, I'm excited and looking forward to it. This is _Booth_," she said with emphasis. "And I feel like I could throw up any second. Do you think it means something?" she asked, her big baby blue eyes begging for answers.

"Yes. And that's your brain's fault again. It means that this is really important to you. A lot more than any other dates. And it is. This could be the first moment of the rest of your life!"

Angela had meant that as a good thing. Brennan sighed.

"You're not really helping."

"You're gonna be fine. Just be yourself."

That was the problem. She wasn't great on dates. She wasn't even likeable at times.

Angela was still on a cloud. She said, "I can't believe that at this time tomorrow, I'll finally know how Booth is in bed..."

Brennan's heart started pounding. Yet again. This was precisely why she was so nervous.

***

"Hey, stud!" Angela almost shouted before Booth could exit the building. He stopped and turned to her as she got nearer. "Or should I say 'Hey, moron!'"

Booth sighed, adjusting his tie.

"What did I do now?"

Angela looked around to make sure they were alone.

"She poured her heart out to you and you said _nothing_?"

Booth never figured Bones to be the type to kiss and tell. Or to not kiss and tell.

"Not that this concerns you, but I have my reasons."

"And I am ready to hear them out," she stated, eyebrows raised, arms crossed.

Booth hesitated. But if Brennan could talk about it, so could he. Maybe he'd feel less nervous.

"I didn't want her to freak out. To change her mind. I want... to show her, first."

"Yeah... Normally, I would be all for it. It's great... in theory. But this is Dr. Temperance Brennan. You need to spell it out or she won't be sure. So put your romantic knight in shining armour self aside for a minute and just be very, very clear. I shouldn't have to tell you that, Mr Big Man."

A lecture from Angela was not what he needed.

"Angela, I love you dearly," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "But please, stay out of this."

Angela smiled.

"See? It's so easy to say!" She hugged him tightly. "I love you, too."

She pulled away and smacked him on the arm.

"Now, don't you dare break her heart. I can be mean. Very mean."

She walked away and spun around just in time to say, "Have a great evening!"

***

The restaurant was classy. The ambiance was quiet and intimate; even the clicks of her heals on the floor sounded really loud. They reached the table and Booth pulled her chair for her. She blushed, sat down, and waited for him to sit across from her. The candlelight was reflecting on the reserved sign. The hostess took it off the table before asking them if they wanted something to drink. Brennan watched Booth as he ordered a bottle of wine.

As soon as the woman walked away, Brennan said, "You didn't have to do all this."

"Oh no, don't worry. I don't have to do anything. They have cooks and stuff."

She chuckled as he grinned, really proud of his joke.

"I wasn't going to buy you fries from the diner on our first date," he said.

"I would have been fine with it."

Booth's heart stopped. Maybe this was too much?

"If you're not comfortable, we can go somewhere else," he suggested.

"No!" She looked around. Couples everywhere. Soft music. "This is nice," she said. _Just a little weird._

The waiter arrived and poured them some wine.

"To us," Booth said, raising his glass.

The bright tinkle of their glass coming together sounded really loud, too. She took a sip, smiled and looked at the bottle on the table. Useless information came rushing through her brain, and she tried really hard not to say anything. She knew it was annoying to most people. Nobody cared that findings suggested the early Mayans valued cacao as the source of a fermented drink. Or that alcohol came 500 years before chocolate.

"Are you ok?" Booth asked.

"Yes, of course." She looked him in the eye. "I'm just... trying to find something to say. Usually on first dates, I don't know the man so well. So there's a lot I can ask."

"You don't have to say anything," he said.

"That would make for a very long evening," she laughed.

"So I take it Angela's talking to you again?"

"Yes. I'm not sure it's a good thing," she smiled. "We're gonna have to find her a boyfriend, too, otherwise, she's never gonna leave us alone."

She winced at her choice of words.

"I didn't mean... Well..."

Booth laughed again.

"You can relax!" he said.

She really was a bundle of nerves. She felt like laughing for no reason.

"Are you relaxed?" she asked.

"God, no!"

They stared at each other, still smiling. At least they were not alone.

The waiter came back, ready to take their order. They hadn't even looked at the menu yet. And when he came back 20 minutes later, they still weren't ready to order.

***

"Where's Parker tonight?" she asked him, taking the last bite of _crème brûlée_ she could handle.

"I drove him back to Rebecca's before I picked you up." He looked at her and added, on a tone of confidence, "He was really excited."

"To see his mother?"

"No!" he laughed. "That we were... going out. Together. Tonight."

Brennan felt her heart swell. He had told his son? About them? That could only mean it was as serious as it could be, right? Booth never mixed his son into his romantic life.

"You told him?"

_I had to. He kept asking why I was dressed like James Bond and nervous like a girl._

"Yes. You think I shouldn't have?"

"No, it's... He's ok with it?"

"More than ok."

In fact, the words he had used were, 'I bet her apartment is way cooler than yours. When you move in with her, can you bring your big TV?'. But Booth didn't need to add to the pressure they both felt. He had never put his heart and soul into a first date. This was scary stuff.

They kept on talking. About the case, about the news, about everything but them. They avoided the subject for so long that when the waiter came back for the 50th time, they realized they were the only ones left.

"The kitchen is now closed," he said with a detached voice. "If you would like, you are welcome to sit at the bar," he finished, pointing to the counter where two or three people were leaned on to drink in fancy glasses.

Booth asked her if she wanted to, hoping they could go somewhere less stuffy.

"I have a very decent bottle of scotch at my place," she said, unaware at first that her words were hinting to something more.

She understood that this sentence she had used many, many times over the years with him had lost all regular meaning. From now on, inviting him to her place would suggest something else. There was no going back. And she didn't want to go back.

She locked eyes with him, fully aware now of what she was consciously implying. And her heart raced as he nodded. She followed him outside to his car. The cool wind should have calmed her down, but she was starting to feel... terrified.

She wasn't sure she could sleep with him. She wanted to. She needed to. She just didn't want to disappoint him. She was great in bed, objectively speaking. She wasn't afraid of pleasure. She wasn't a prude. But she had no experience with angels, heavens and cosmic connections. One plus one had never equalled one for her. What if she couldn't do it? What if they couldn't connect because of her? What if she was emotionally unable to?

Her silence was making him so nervous he wondered how he had managed to park in front of her place.

They went up. They went in.

He was tense. Everywhere. And he hadn't even touched her yet. He watched her go for the bottle of scotch and two small glasses in the liquor cabinet. She was amazingly beautiful.

"Thanks for tonight," he said.

"You're leaving?" she asked, in a little high pitched voice, leaving the alcohol behind to stand in front of him.

"No! I was just... saying thank you."

"Thank _you._" The butterflies were there again. She tried to find a spot on his body she didn't felt the urge to touch. Couldn't. She locked eyes with him. It didn't look like he was ever going to say anything, so she asked, "It wasn't a pity date, was it? You didn't take me out just because you thought you had to?"

Booth had completely forgotten she didn't know yet. Angela would have killed him by now. He dug through his pockets and found it.

Booth handed her a piece of paper.

"What's this? The dinner bill?" she laughed.

"It's my list."

Her head spun up.

"You're mocking me?" This was supposed to be funny?

"No! Bones..." He took the list from her hands and threw it on the nearest table. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her close. "I love you," he whispered his heart out. "I've loved you for a very long time."

She lost her breath in the moment. What she felt wasn't surprise. It was more... relief.

"Why didn't you say something before? You made me do all the work. I thought you were a gentleman."

Hands on his chest, she played with the buttons of his shirt. She let him look into her eyes as he replied.

"You..." No. This would be a lie. "_I_ wasn't ready," he realized. Yes, he was a coward. But it didn't matter now. She was there. In his arms. And he wasn't sleeping.

"Do you think we're ready now?" she asked in a tiny, uncharacteristic voice.

His eyes dropped to her small nose, then to her lips. His chest tightened. He leaned in ever so slowly.

She caught his lips with hers before he had a chance to kiss her first. Slowly, gently, hungrily. Their breath was already heavy and loud. Her knees went completely weak when the warmth of his tongue softly caressed her bottom lip. She opened her mouth slightly and allowed her tongue to meet his. They both pulled the other closer. Booth hands went up, cradling her face. She stroked his back as a moan escaped her throat. He heard her pleasure and lost it a little, pushing his groin onto her. Without breaking the kiss, she pressed on his lower back, and lower, to feel his hardness on her. She swayed her hips a little and cried out a whisper.

Hands were everywhere. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and slid her hands under it, feeling the skin of his back. She glided her fingers all the way to the front and sneaked them between his belt and his stomach.

She heard him muffle something about God and he buried his face in her neck. His fingers found the zipper on the back of her dress and he pulled it down. She managed to slip off her shoes as she unbuttoned his shirt. She pushed it off of him and asked for his lips again with hers. Half naked, Booth kept kissing her, as he walked and drove her blindly somewhere he could lean her against. Her back hit the wall beside her bedroom entrance and she spun them around. Her eyes, glazed with unbearable desire, found his. She took both his hands off her waist and locked her fingers through his as she pulled him, walking backwards, to her bedroom. She stood in front of him, but took a step back. She let go of his hands. She wanted him to watch her. She let her dress fall to the floor. Heart pounding, she let his eyes discover her delicate underwear as the lights from the street graced her skin. Slowly, he approached her, in awe. He let his fingers graze her throat and slithered them downwards. He flattened his palm between her breasts as she involuntarily drew her head back. The roundness of her chest followed her deep breath and rose upwards.

He whispered a loaded sigh just beneath her collarbone, hands on the bare skin of her waist. Holding in a whimper, Brennan lifted his chin with her finger. She cupped his face between her hands and caressed his lips with her thumbs. Their eyes met. She kissed him once, but pulled away slowly before he could kiss her back. She kissed a spot beneath his ear and savoured his intense breathing on her as his hands kept exploring her back. She went back to his mouth, waiting for his lips to graze hers before teasing them a little more. He sensually darted out the tip of his tongue and she pulled back, smiling, just enough to make him squirm. Her tongue finally greeted his, outside their mouths for a second. She felt a pull inside her gut. She wanted him closer.

Never letting go of his delicious mouth, she undid his belt buckle and pulled down the zipper of his jeans, a little slower than she could have, just to make him even harder. Her groin flat against his, she slid her hands down the back of his pants and pulled him closer.

He managed to push his pants completely off. The intensity grew even more as the only thing separating them now was the fabric of their underwear. Booth unclasped her bra and slowly pulled the straps down her shoulders, leaving a trail of kisses on her skin as he went. He taunted her nipples with his thumb a little, feeling their hardness behind the lace. A soft pinch to make her moan out loud. Her eyes closed, she desperately waited until he exposed her breasts, letting the lace fall to the floor. She couldn't help but grind against him when he took them in his palms. His mouth was about to take over his fingers when he felt her small hand around him. He buried his face in her neck to try and control himself. With both hands on her hips, he spun them around and pushed her down on the bed.

***

A shiver of coolness went through her, as their heart rate calmed down a bit. Still trying to catch his breath, he pulled her close. She snuggled against him, her head in the crook of his neck, a hand over his moist chest.

"Just so you know...." she murmured in his ear, "I would not appreciate you seeing other people."

He chuckled.

"I'm the puritan one. You're the one with the history of double dating."

"I'm quite pleased at the moment," she said with a smile he could hear.

He laughed and kissed the top of her head while his fingers traced circles on her bare arm. She shivered again and tried to look around.

"Where are all the covers?" she asked, really wondering.

"I don't know," he replied, trying to locate them. He finally did. They were in a pile next to the bed. "Huh. Hold on." He went to grab them, but she pulled him to her.

"Never mind," she ordered him.

He held her as close as he possibly could.

"I love you," he confessed again, as his heart swell.

She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. She took it in; her stomach fluttered with fury.

"I believe you," she whispered, feeling more naked than she ever was. "But I said it first," she reminded him with a smirk.

"Actually, you didn't say it. I said it for you. Say it."

She blushed.

"Say it," he whispered again.

She tightened her lips together and her eyes sparkled with laughter.

"Say it."

She sighed, content. Happy. Light. She breathed in, shaky. Excited. Full.

"I love you, Booth."

She let him taste her words and smiled at the light in his eyes.

Suddenly, she broke away and stretched to grab something on the bedside table.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a laugh.

She came back to him with a cell phone in her hands.

"I'm calling Sweets," she explained, like it was obvious.

"What?"

"He needs to know, remember? To adjust."

She pretended to type in a number as Booth tried to take the phone from her. Finally, after a tickle or two, he won. Now on top of her, phone in hand, he laughed out loud.

"You're funny!" he said.

"When are you gonna stop sounding so surprised when you say that?"

"You surprise me every day, Bones."

She kissed him. As soon as he responded, she tried to take the phone back, but he had seen it coming.

"Uh huh!"

He threw the device on the pile of bed sheets on the floor.

"Tonight, it's just you and me. Tomorrow, we can tell the whole world."

_We._ Them. Against the world. Nothing had changed. Except everything.

------------------------------ THE END-----------------------------

**Well, there you go. It's done :( I hope you liked my ending... *sigh*. I can't believe it's over. Let me tell you I absolutely loved writing it for you, guys. That was some incredible support you showed me. I'm proud of you for all those reviews. You rock. Thanks!**


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